Gold Digger
by LovelyLadyRed
Summary: After successfully escaping the family business and working day and night to make her dreams a reality, 27-year-old Amy Cahill finally had everything she could have ever wanted. But with the sudden announcement of her younger brother's fast approaching nuptials, Amy's world turns upside down seemingly overnight.
1. Chapter 1: Another Day

Hello, again! First off, I'd just like to say thank you to everyone who reviewed and read "My Bad". You guys are so great, and so nice and encouraging, really, thanks for such a warm welcome, I appreciate it. :) Well, I'd like to start off by saying that this story is around **five years old**. I know, crazy. I started it on the MB a long, long time ago, when I was just a wee lil lamb, and rediscovered it this summer. I was super encouraged reading all the reviews that I have vowed to finish this tale once and for all. I was gonna do it on the MB, however, the MODS . . . well, they were problematic. So, I've moved it here! Anyway, I hope you guys like it, 'cause this story is like my baby.

Also, I haven't read the books in a while, so the plotline doesn't follow canon completely - there are some . . . adjustments. Just wanted to let you know in advance. Some things to keep in mind (I'll get through it quickly so it won't bore you), no flames, please review, OH, AND TELL ME SOMETHING ABOUT YOURSELF! How long have you been in the fandom? Are you a reader, writer, or both? What's your OTP(s)?

Anyway, without further ado, let's get started!

* * *

 **"Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal." - Albert Camus**

* * *

 _It was just another day . . ._

* * *

"And that is why one must always create characters who are real, and flawed, and not always perfect. Perfection is boring, and most importantly, it is misleading to readers everywhere. It is a lie subscribing to our own societal standards - barriers that we as humans fight every day to break down. So, don't be a fraud, be genuine, and you can be guaranteed success . . . in one way, or another."

 _Ding, ding, ding!_

Amy Cahill faced the senior class students as they hurriedly rose out of their chairs, grabbed their backpacks, and made mad dashes towards the door that separated them from their freedom. Their teacher - an old, grandmotherly figure by the name of Mrs. Olsen - loudly bellowed after them, "Well, I think that wraps up class for today. Don't forget, you have an essay due tomorrow morning, and we will be discussing _The Stranger_ and it's stance on existentialism on Friday, so be prepared - I will not be taking in late work!"

The educator huffed at the lack of attention she was receiving from her pupils, and turned to her guest lecturer with a small smile. "Thank you so much, Amy, honestly, I don't know what we would do without you coming in from time to time. But you know kids - sometimes they just need a little push towards greatness."

Amy grinned back at the elderly woman. "I'm happy to help, truly, m'am. You've got a talented bunch here, so no need to worry about them."

Mrs. Olsen chuckled slightly as she made her way towards the large, wooden desk placed strategically at the front and center of the classroom. "Oh, you are just the sweetest, hon. Riverbridge High appreciates you nonetheless. It's always good to have a successful writer around to teach us amateurs a couple of things!" She picked up and imposing pile of homework from the surface, and frowned as she shuffled through the papers. "I won't keep you waiting, dear. I'm sure you must be aching to get home."

Amy giggled. "You've got that right!"

Packing up her own stuff as quickly as her hands would allow her, the Cahill shot Mrs. Olsen another bright smile and waved goodbye.

 _Well, at least they weren't completely awful today,_ she thought as she made her way down the halls of the high school and out of brick and mortar building. It was a chilly January afternoon in New York City, and the streets were packed with busy people rushing through their busy lives, determined to get from Point A to Point B in as little time as possible. Yellow cabs lined the roads, honking at others to get out of the way, or to simply move a little quicker. Typical New York fashion - if you can't do it fast enough, you're simply not good enough.

Amy waved her hands wildly. "Taxi!" she yelled, and after about a minute, one pulled over, letting her in the car and out of the cold. "Manhattan, please."

Looking out the window at the city that had become her home, she thought about her day. Being a guest lecturer at various schools wasn't always the most "fun" job, but it was rewarding in its own right. After she had her short story published in _The New York Times_ , she found that she was more popular with the intellectual crowd than she had originally thought, and was requested by many eager teachers throughout the country to come and speak at their high schools, and sometimes even colleges. And well, she couldn't just say no, after all, there could be a William Shakespeare sitting among the young pupils, or a Jane Austen, and maybe she could inspire them in one way or another. It was her duty to help out, if she could.

"Thanks," she said as she got out of the cab and made her way towards her and her boyfriend's apartment - a beautiful place that she liked to refer to as "the diamond amongst rhinestones". It was a trendy, modern type home, in a good neighborhood at the heart of the city, and though it wasn't without its faults, Amy thought it was perfect just the way it was. She stumbled upon it during her second year of college, and convinced her significant other to keep it as a temporary residence until they both finished their schooling. However, in time, "temporary" became more like "permanent", and the thought of going back to past responsibilities after graduation became akin to jumping into an dormant volcano - unappealing and dangerous. So, the couple had decided that while it was good to escape their family's drama for a while, it was better to escape it indefinitely. It wasn't running away, per say, more like . . . turning over a new leaf. A fresh start.

"Jake, I'm home!" Silence.

Amy sighed, and glanced at her watch. Five o'clock. Jake Rosenbloom worked long hours at the Murphy & Sons Law Firm, so she really shouldn't have been surprised that he wasn't home yet. At twenty-nine, he was a rising star, zooming through the ranks much faster than anyone could have ever anticipated, and was on his way to becoming one of the greatest lawyers in the state, perhaps even the country. Amy walked over to the dresser and picked up a picture of the both of them in Central Park, taken right before the start of her first semester at NYU. She let out a small smile. It had been eleven years since they started dating. A more or less bumpy road, but one that she wouldn't change for anything. The two had been to heaven and hell together, but those trials and tribulations only served to reassure her of their shared forever future. He was the single "epic love" of her dreams, one that she would continue to believe in and rely on for the rest of her life, and though she never voiced it, she could feel that they were about to begin a whole new chapter together - and soon. It made her both scared and excited at the same time. Mostly excited.

Sighing in content, Amy put the photograph back in its place and headed to the kitchen to make some coffee. It was going to be a long night, and she wasn't particularly looking forward to banging her head repeatedly against the wall, hoping to clear up her writer's block, but that was a necessary evil. It was common knowledge that she was quite the wordsmith, however, few knew of how far her writing abilities actually extended to. True, she did publish some cool pieces in several magazines and notable newspapers, but her true passion has always lied in books. And she published a few of those as well . . . five best-sellers, to be exact. Of course, no one besides Dan, Nellie, and her publisher actually knew of her little side hobby, but she kind of liked it that way.

Plus, Amy loved Regina Devlin, and considered the famous pseudonym to be the greatest character she had ever created. A strong, beautiful, independent young woman who was unafraid of what others thought, she wrote the most exquisitely touching stories of far off adventures, life long friendships, and poignant romances. She was confident, smart, and witty, and in short, she was everything Amy had always wanted to be. She was good enough. Regina was the mask Amy put on when she needed a little confidence boost, and she helped her strive to become a better writer with every word that she put on paper. In short, she was the new and improved Amy Cahill, free of a turbulent past and hopeful for a peaceful future.

Filling her mug to the brim, Amy plopped down into her chair and glanced warily at her keyboard and then at the clock. Five thirty.

 _Here goes nothing._

* * *

Dan Cahill wouldn't exactly consider himself shy or introverted or even modest - _at all._ No, those traits were usually associated with his overachieving and sometimes overbearing older sister. He, however, never had trouble expressing how he felt - in fact, he was quite good at it. But tonight . . . well, tonight was really making him reassess himself completely.

 _One does not simply create multi-million dollar video games and be nervous for dates,_ he thought to himself. The sweat stains around his arm pit area were adamant on proving him otherwise. _Get a grip, and some dignity, while you're at it!_

He ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and drew in a long breath. This wasn't going to work. It simply wouldn't do. He must be sick or something, there was no way that he was having an actual fashion emergency. What was he, a Kabra clone?

He needed to calm down. It was just Veronica. His Veronica. And he was sure about this, he was really sure about this. In every man's life, there came a point like this one, where he must make a big decision - the right choice! - or simply walk away. All or nothing. So why was he so . . . nervous? It was pathetic really. Like, come on, he was a billionaire, living in the new and improved Cahill mansion, with his best friend - his cat. Who didn't want that?

He just needed to get through those four little words. _Will you . . . will you . . . will you . . ._

"GOD, CHEESES, SALADIN, FUUUUUU - "

* * *

Ian Kabra never really knew exactly what he was painting, all he really knew was that it had to be perfect. Today was proving to be the most strange day - work was easy, nobody dared to question him, there was some actual free time . . . Something wasn't right, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. He never did like being out of the loop.

"Bernard, some water, if you please - I'm parched!" he called to his butler.

"Certainly, Mr. Kabra," the man responded, making Ian smirk. It sure paid off being fabulously wealthy.

At twenty-seven he still couldn't believe his luck. Not only had he survived all of his fucked up family's crazy antics, but he - against all odds - actually thrived in the aftermath. Taking over his family's art dealership, leading the entire clan, quadrupling his wealth and restoring his family's good name _singlehandedly_. . . It took some fire, but he did it. He made himself proud. Well, _prouder,_ that is.

And now, he was left to enjoy the fruits of his labour. And my, my, didn't they taste good.

He brushed some more green onto the canvas. Ever since Ian was a child, he had relied heavily on drawing and painting because it helped him think and relax - two things he desperately needed in his household. He wouldn't ever make his hobby public knowledge however - didn't want to get mistaken for some mindless bloody Janus. The prodigal son of Vikram and Isabel Kabra could do better than that, after all - or so his parents would say had they ever found out about his craft. However, now that neither of them were there to constantly criticize his life choices, he could allow himself to enjoy his little talent from time to time. It was his salvation.

Today, however, was puzzlingly odd, and everything seemed . . . well, _wrong._ He'd been thinking about it a lot recently, how there seemed to be something missing from his perfect little bubble, but at the end of the day, he had always managed to convince himself that it wasn't a cause for concern. Today, the task seemed a little more difficult.

 _Could it possibly be_ \- no, he shall not think about that stupid idea.

He sighed, dejected. _It's a phase. I'm just lon -_

"Shit!" His hand had slipped, and his perfect picture was ruined.

* * *

"For God's sake, Stephanie! You do not mix my line with Gucci! It gives people the wrong impression, don't you know anything?!"

Natalie Kabra was not a patient woman, nor was she a woman that handled idiotic mishaps well. She did not go through all that very expensive, time consuming education to have her subordinates - that were getting paid handsomely to do their jobs, mind you - muck up her hard work.

"Lisa, DON'T YOU DARE put that red dress on her! She'll look like a tomato! Honestly, is anyone here in their right minds today, or do you all have your heads shoved so far up your - "

"Ms. Kabra!" rang the voice of her assistant. _Just in the nick of time._

Natalie let out a deep breath and rubbed her temples. "What Julie, and make it snappy, today is not a good day for testing the limits of my patience."

The mousy woman cowered a little under her glare. "Um, well, Milan called, and they said that they can't have the pieces in by tomorrow, but they can get them to you the day after. One of the models has gotten sick, so we're short. Oh, and your brother called with a reminder to make sure that you eat lunch, he even sent some over - isn't that sweet?"

The bejeweled Kabra woman looked distastefully at the brown paper take-out bag before snatching it out of her assistant's hands.

"Tell Milan, that my fashion show is tomorrow, so if they want to get paid - no, no, if they want to LIVE they better find a way to get those pieces to me. Grab Meghan from the first floor, the pretty, skinny, not-too-bright blonde one, and say that she's walking the runway tomorrow - offer her my congratulations. If she refuses, tell her that she's walking, or she's fired. As for my brother, call him back immediately and tell him to never send me peasant food again, I'm a grown woman with a very successful fashion line and magazine, I even have my own building to prove it. I can manage to buy my own lunch, thank you," she said, as she took a bite out of her garlic bread. "Ugh, the carbs." Turning on her heel, she took another bite and headed down one of the immaculate white hallways.

"Wait, Ms. Kabra! One more thing!" Julie piped up.

"I don't care!" Natalie called.

"But it's important! Mr. Beckett called and wanted to confirm your date tonight!" Natalie stopped abruptly. She closed her eyes, let out a deep sigh, and turned around to face her assistant.

"Send my apologies and cancel that," she said. "I'm bored with him."

It wasn't just him that she was bored with.

* * *

It was 11:55 PM in New York when the phone rang.

"You won't believe it but . . . I'm getting married, Ames."

And Jake came home to a shattered teacup.

* * *

 _It was just another day . . ._

* * *

Well, I hope you liked that! Let me know, and tune in, more chapters to come soon!


	2. Chapter 2: Powers of Persuasion

Hellooooooo! It was so good to hear from some of you yesterday and this morning. Thank you for all your kind words and reviews! I've also been checking some of your stories out and they are fire! Y'all are so talented, damn! Well, I hope that you guys like this new chapter, I'm not used to writing this couple, but it is a challenge I am willing to accept! Also, random question: can you guys see the **bold** words? I can't on my computer so I was just curious. Anyway, let's get started!

* * *

 **"Nothing is so painful to the human spirit as a great and sudden change." - Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley**

* * *

Though a lot, A LOT of unfortunate things have been said about her boyfriend - mostly by those who have spectacularly failed in one or more areas of their miserable lives and were looking for an outlet - Amy had never heard the adjective "slow" being used by any of his many critics. Too serious, sure, poor at time management, sure, overly handsome, most definitely. But those were just the regular things normal jealous people would say, and the couple had learned not to pay that type of talk too much attention. Slow . . . why, no one would dare insult Jake Rosenbloom like that.

It was with great sadness - to say the least - that today Amy was tempted to make history with that one four-letter word.

"Come again?"

She sighed, and ran her pale hands through her hair. _Oh, please don't make me repeat it again, I swear I will be sick this time._ "Dan's getting married."

Jake blinked several times as if in a trance. Nope, it still didn't seem like that reality was setting in for him. "But like, to a real person?"

"Yeah, go figure." Of all the things that could have possibly happened _ever,_ an asteroid hitting Earth would have caused less chaos in Amy's brain than the foreboding news of her restless, immature, twenty-four-year-old brother getting hitched out of the blue, and before her. But mostly just getting hitched in general.

Jake started raising his hand as if to ask a question, but never got to reach a peak arm height before breaking into roaring guffaws. He grabbed hold of the nearest arm chair to steady himself before he fell flat on his face, and Amy rolled her eyes. _Well, I'm glad somebody finds my brother's recklessness downright hilarious._

"Jake, seriously!" she yelled. "This isn't funny!" But Jake only laughed harder.

"I can't breathe," he wheezed. "Who was stupid enough to agree to this insane plan?"

Crossing her arms, Amy slid down to the floor and sighed, blowing some strands of auburn hair out of her face in the process. "Veronica O'Malley. His girlfriend."

Jake stopped his momentary childish outburst to frown at the mention of Dan's fiancé's name, and Amy spared a glance at him. Even in her foul mood, she couldn't help but admire that though his face was scrunched up like a paper bag, he was still devastatingly good looking. "Who?"

"Exactly."

Her boyfriend chuckled, plopping down into the previously mentioned armchair as she crawled closer to him and lay her head in his lap, pouting. "I met her once, a while ago, I don't even remember what she looks like, to be completely honest. But they've been dating for only a year, and I just don't know why they're rushing into this! It's not like there's some deadline they have to meet, why not just keep dating and getting to know each other?"

"You mean like us?" he said with a lazy half smile.

"Yeah," Amy grimaced. "Like us."

 _Like us._ Oh, if only that were true. After all, when one had been dating their significant other for over a decade, well, "like us" becomes an entirely different story. Maybe "not exactly like us" should have been the right thing to say.

 _God no, don't think like that!_ she silently scolded herself.

What was wrong with her? Honestly, she should have considered herself unbelievably lucky in the love department and be grateful for what she had now. Yeah, maybe Jake hadn't popped the big question yet, and yeah, maybe that was a little disappointing for Little Miss Cahill who just wanted to glide down the aisle in her white dress and settle into her predetermined and peaceful future. But what Little Miss Cahill needed was a stern talking to in order to remind herself that she is a feminist rockstar who didn't need a ring to solidify her relationship status. Heaven help her if she became "that girl" who sends women back a couple of decades to a time when their primal usage extended to finding a husband and popping out a few babies. Amy had a good thing going for her, and maybe it wasn't going the way she had always planned for it to go, but she was happy with her current situation - and at the end of the day, that was all that mattered anyway. Maybe she didn't have what she wanted, but she had what she needed, and that was good enough.

And yet . . .

"I'm just wondering what made him rush into this," she whispered, clearing her head of her traitorous musings. "You know Dan. He's not the settling down type."

Jake stroked her hair absentmindedly and nodded. There was a hint of a smile in his voice when he said, "Well, people change, Ames, and love is a great motivator."

Amy frowned, disagreeing with that flowery sentiment. In her opinion, nobody actually changed, they merely evolved into what they were supposed to be all along. But she kept quiet, not wanting to start an argument this late at night, or technically early morning. Instead she just snuggled further into Jake and inhaled his scent. Pine, like always. She liked that he was attempting to make her feel better, however, she couldn't help but worry. Dan was her baby brother, and as his big sister, it was her responsibility to forever question his actions so that they wouldn't result in consequences with the potential to ruin his life. And throughout her own existence, she honestly did try her best to keep him safe, sound, and away from the big bad world.

She let out a long breath. It was too bad that she hadn't succeeded in that endeavor.

"He wants me to be maid-of-honor, you know."

Jake raised a quizzical brow and met Amy's eyes. "Really now?"

"I know, right?" she scoffed and played with his hands. "Apparently Veronica doesn't have any siblings or close girl friends, and since Dan wanted me to play a big part in his big day, he suggested that I should fill in the role. It's just that . . . "

"What?"

Pause.

"It would involve me going back to Attleboro until the wedding is over."

And that was where she expected the conversation to end - a firm no and maybe a small screaming match, too. However, even though she could practically feel Jake forming his signature scowl at the mere thought of his girl not in New York by his side, all she got was silence. Amy didn't quite like it.

". . . Which is why I said no, of course," she reassured, stroking his arms gently for extra effect. "I mean, pausing my life for some wedding? That's ridiculous, and it's not going to happen."

Still no response. "Jake?"

"I think you should go," he stated abruptly. "Yeah. I think that would be a good idea."

 _I definitely just hallucinated._

"What?" He couldn't be serious. There's no way that can't-take-a-minute-away-from-my-love-just-to-breathe Jake would let her go away for months at a time. They had never spent that much time apart, even during the many life-threatening situations they used to put themselves in. "Jake, do you remember why we left Massachusetts, or more specifically, _how_ we left Massachusetts?" _Like, with the promise to never return?_

Tensing suddenly, Jake closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "How could I ever forget." Amy felt his dismay at the thought of their haggard past, and it pained her to see him mentally reliving it within the span of five seconds. She couldn't really help him though, all she could do was be there for him. And how was she supposed to do that from Attleboro?

Suddenly, Jake said, "But Ames, that was over a decade ago, and we went back, remember?"

"Yeah, for two days tops, every _other_ year during Christmas - "

"And it was good!" he exclaimed. "It was better than good." He sighed again and scratched his head. "I know we left because of the family business, but Amy, this isn't that type of family business that you would want to miss out on, I can guarantee it. If you miss this - this huge thing, I don't think you'll be able to come back from that. You'll be regretting it for the rest of your life, and I don't want that for you."

It was really her stubbornness that was coming back to bite her in her behind right now. Logically speaking, he had a point, but Amy's brain just wasn't willing to admit defeat yet. "But what about you? The firm won't even let you go for a couple of days, let alone a couple of months. I can do my work from anywhere, but you'll have to stay here! I just - " She let out an unsatisfied _harrumph_.

Jake laughed softly. "Hon, I love that you love me, and want to be with me - trust me, the sentiment is returned in full, but this will be good for you! Think of it as another Cahill adventure . . . just with a lot less explosions and secret serums." She felt his hand run through her hair, and although unwillingly, she let herself relax. Damn him and his powers of persuasion. "Trust me, this will be fun. You'll spend more time with Dan, Veronica, and Nellie, and by the end of it, you won't even want to go back to New York."

Amy scoffed once more. "I highly doubt that."

She felt Jake getting frustrated at her lack of cooperation. "Amy, look at me." Grudgingly, she obliged. "You won't even miss me."

He believed it - or at least he wanted to, she could tell. But oh, how wrong he was. Amy shot him a shy grin and moved a stray hair out of his warm, brown eyes. "I can't even imagine a world where that could possibly be true."

In that tender moment, Jake leaned down and captured her lips with his. The couple relished the contact, however brief it was. It was always good to know that even during a disagreement actions of love prevailed.

 _And he will be giving up all of this!_ Amy thought. _Well, it's his funeral._

"Fine!" she exclaimed, coming up for some air. "You win! But only because your powers of persuasion are impossible to resist."

Jake squealed - actually _squealed_ \- and showered Amy with more kisses around her face.

"Oh, stop it!" she laughed. "And hand me my phone!"

The man made a faux sad face, but did as he was told, however, not without placing more kisses on his girlfriend as she rang up her brother.

" _Yo yo, ma, this is King Dan Cahill, inventor of everything fun and awesome, and you've reached my voicemail, suckaaaahhhhhh! Leave a short message - I repeat, make it short, I am too busy living my life to deal with this. Better yet, text me that shit, we are in the twenty-first century after all. Peace, brah!"_

Amy rolled her eyes, still not believing that this was the same guy who is about to pledge to be a faithful and responsible husband for the rest of his life. "I've made up my mind, _your majesty_. How soon can you get me a flight back home?"

* * *

Amy going back to her old life! Good idea, bad idea, awful idea? Or possibly the greatest choice she would ever make? Hmmm, only time will tell! I think I will be posting another chapter today or tomorrow, so keep a lookout. Have a great day, everyone!


	3. Chapter 3: Homecoming

Heyoooo! Here's a new one for y'all! Thanks for the reviews and the views, I hope you are enjoying the story so far! This chapter was a little bit difficult for me to write, but I did try my best. :/ Anyway, how are your days going? Everything gucci? I hope so.

Um, ooh, some ships I ship that aren't in this fandom: Dramione, Zutara, Klaroline, Bughead . . . I have many more, I just can't think of them right now lol. Anyone in the same boat (punspunspuns)?

Anyway, enough rambling! Let's get on with the story, shall we?

* * *

 **"All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." - Leo Tolstoy**

* * *

 _Surreal,_ was the first thought to enter her head when she spotted the overwhelming glare of the mansion. It was just like stepping back in time, except worse. She blinked a couple of times to check that she wasn't dreaming.

In all her years, Amy had never thought that the hardest thing she would have to do was walk back through the infamous double oak doors of her replicated childhood home. Yet there she was, determined expression on her face, one small fist raised in the air on the verge of knocking, on the verge of announcing to the world that their once great Cahill leader was back - for a little while, at least.

This was it. She was actually going to do it.

Right?

Amy sighed, and started to lower her hand. No. No, she wasn't. _She couldn't._ Who was she kidding? There was no Madrigal bravery left within "Little Miss Cahill" that could push her towards the past she had spent infinite hours running away from, that was common knowledge.

 _Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all._ With a quick glance and a dejected pout, Amy turned her back to the ivory exterior of the mansion, ready to make a quick and clean exit. She'd just have to make up some stupid lie to Dan as to why she couldn't be there for him. Again. Yeah, she could already see how well he was going to take it.

"Going somewhere?" Speak of the devil.

"Dweeb, you scared me!" Amy jumped, holding a hand to her chest dramatically. Dan just raised an eyebrow, as if to say, " _Really?"_

Amy took a good look at the man standing before her. It had been so long since they have actually seen each other in person, that she felt tears prickling her eyes just by looking at him and seeing how much he had physically changed.

Dan ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and tapped his foot impatiently. He was so tall now that Amy found it incredibly funny how she needed to look up just examine him properly - for it was not too long ago that he had to look up at her. Maybe even _to_ her. How time flew.

Aside from his soft, green eyes, everything about him seemed sharper. Hell, he even dressed sharper, actually sporting a button down shirt, and a pair of what seemed like very expensive shoes. Granted, the shirt did have a stain on it and the shoes were fully covered in mud - after all, some things never change - but it was good to see him growing up a bit, and growing into his own person. And yeah, that did make her a little emotional.

"Are you done staring yet?" asked the little nuisance, and Amy just rolled her eyes, hugging him close despite his protests of sister germs.

"I've missed you," she whispered, and unwillingly, Dan relaxed.

"Yeah," he responded. "I've missed you too."

The two siblings shook their heads while laughing at their shared sentimentalism, and proceeded to head inside. As they made their way down the luxurious halls, they struck up a conversation circling around their lives in the past couple of years. So much had changed and to put it simply, there was a lot to catch up on.

"So how is our mutual 'friend' Regina Devlin doing?" Dan questioned. "Anything new we should expect? Well, not me personally, I don't read her mushy-gushy love stories."

"You don't read, period," Amy quickly retorted. "And they're not mushy-gushy, or _always_ love stories."

"Whatever you say, nerd," Dan shrugged. "Have you told Jake yet?"

 _Ah._

"It doesn't matter," she replied. "What's it to him anyway?"

Dan let out an exasperated sigh. "You can't be serious."

Amy slumped her shoulders and slowed her pace. Deep down, she obviously wasn't. However . . . "You know I can't, Dan. The less people that know, the better."

"Maybe the less strangers!" Dan exclaimed. "But you and Jake are practically married."

 _Emphasis on practically,_ she thought bitterly.

"Look, I'm just saying that if my girlfriend had been a secret best-selling author for the past eight years, I'd wanna know."

Amy sighed. "Well, then thank god you don't have that problem, right?"

Dan just made a face and continued to walk on. As the two made their way through the grand ballroom in silence, Amy decided to try another conversation topic on for size. "So, how'd you do it?"

Dan frowned. "Do what?"

"Propose, duh."

"Oh, that!" he exclaimed. "It was pretty ingenious actually. I almost set the mansion on fire."

"You what?!"

"Relax, we've got insurance!"

"Not for burning down your own house, you don't!"

"Well, thank god that there was a fire extinguisher nearby then!" he snapped. "Anyway, what I did was I picked her up at her home, then I brought her over here. We had a romantic, candlelit dinner outside, and I was like, dropping hints and it was super cute, if I do say so myself. Then I took her on a walk around the grounds, and I was making this super romantic long speech about how she's my world, yada yada . . . and then we reached the back of the house, and this is where the almost fire happened - damn that sudden gust of wind. Veronica has this thing for candles, so what I did was arrange a bunch of candles in a 'will you marry me' formation, then I had a friend take a photo of us with their drone, and then send it to me. Once I got the picture, I showed it to her, and she was like, 'oh my gosh!' and yeah, that was basically it."

Amy was speechless. Was this _really_ her brother or an alien possessing her brother?

"This is all so . . ." Pause. "Extra."

Dan rolled his eyes, and waved her comment away. "Whatever, hater. It wasn't extra when she said yes and decided to marry me. So, I win."

Amy smiled tightly. Extra or not, the envy at her brother's thoughtfulness towards his girlfriend was creeping in. Of course, she was thrilled for Dan. If this is what he truly wanted, then she was glad to hear that her little brother finally got something that made him happy. Disappointment for the siblings came all too easily, and when good things like that happened, it was nothing short of a miracle. However, there was a small part of her that wished her own boyfriend could provide her the safety and stability Dan had just acquired, and soon. She knew it was dumb to have these types of irrational thoughts wandering around in her head, but she blamed it on petty jealousy. After all, what else could it be?

"Yo, space cadet," called her annoying brother. "I know you must wanna get settled and everything, but there's someone I'd like you to meet first. Well, re-meet, actually."

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere and perfectly on queue, a high heel attached to a slender leg started to make it's way out of the shadows, stepping onto the spiral staircase. Amy's mouth dropped open. The woman was nothing short of exquisite. Her clean cut lavender dress accented her light blue eyes and ended just below the knee, as her manicured hand gently held onto the railing. She smiled amiably showing off her dimples, brushed her chestnut hair back, and gently descended down the wooden steps. At a closer look, her entrance was similar to that of a goddess coming down from heaven above in order to greet her mortal subjects.

Amy spared a glance at Dan and saw that his eyes were lit with mischief, and something sweet, yet quite foreign - something that almost resembled adoration. "Oh, sister dear, allow me to introduce my fiancé, Veronica O'Malley."

The brunette took Amy's hand and grinned. "I know you probably don't remember me - we only met briefly before - but I'm so glad that you're here today! Having my future sister-in-law as my maid-of-honor is a dream come true, honestly!"

 _Who died and made her a Hallmark card?_

Despite her quiet sentiment regarding Veronica's eagerness, Amy returned her smile and said, "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

 _Ha ha, yeah, okay._

Veronica squealed, and quickly led Amy to the dining room while Dan waved a mocking goodbye and mouthed, _good luck._ "Oh, there's just so many things to discuss! I know you must be exhausted from you flight, but we simply must cover some things before you rest, there's just so much to be done and so little time!"

Amy frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"You're going to help me plan the wedding, silly!" Veronica laughed.

"But isn't the wedding planner supposed to do that?"

"Only the details! You're going to help me with the big picture. Kind of like my second-in-command!" the bride-to-be shrieked.

"Oh," Amy said. "How . . . fun."

"I know, right?" Veronica yelled enthusiastically. "First things first, we have to get started on the guest list for the engagement party, which I plan on having in three weeks, tops. The wedding is less than five months away, and I don't want to push the party down further. We have to give everyone a good amount of time to make it. Also, at the party, I want to announce the bridesmaids and groomsmen - very important, I am so going to need your help on choosing the people to accompany me on the big day! And we have to get the invites for the party out as soon as possible, I know you guys have a few friends and family members overseas . . . "

As Veronica prattled on, Amy's head was spinning. So much information was being thrown at her, and she felt as if she were back in one of her arduous classes at grad school. How she was possibly going to remember everything was a mystery to her.

 _I guess I'm just gonna have to wing this maid-of-honor thing,_ she thought as she listened to the excitable girl babble on about the seating chart. _Oh boy._

She had five months to get everything together and make this the best day of Dan's life, no matter her feelings on the subject. He was her baby brother, and well, she owed him a happy day. It was the least she could do.

"Okay," Amy said, turning to the brunette. "Let's start on those invitations then, shall we?"

* * *

Veronica! Thoughts on our bride-to-be? 'Cause, well, you might wanna remember her - she's gonna be important. I'm excited to share the next chapter, it's a fun one!


	4. Chapter 4: 3,296 Miles Away

Good morning, everyone! I'm glad to hear that you've been enjoying the story so far! I've been getting some reviews about Dan's voicemail a few chapters back, and boy, I was laughing so hard writing that part you don't even know. Yes, BUGHEAD! To my reviewer out there, I think we did just become best friends, I will make sure to check that story out! Anyway, writing this chapter was so much fun, I've loved every moment of it - these characters are my precious little babies. I don't wanna keep you guys in suspense, so let's get started!

* * *

 **"The surprise is that you continue to be surprised." - Jill A. Davis**

* * *

 _The Cahill Family_

 _invites you to celebrate a most auspicious occasion on_

 _Friday, February 1st_

 _at_

 _7:00 PM_

 _at_

 _The Cahill Mansion_

 _in_

 _Attleboro, Massachusetts_

 _Formal wear is highly encouraged._

 _Please RSVP accordingly, and do inform the host if you intend_

 _to bring a plus one._

* * *

"Quite curious, isn't it?"

Ian rolled his eyes at his exceptionally annoying young sister and threw his invitation to the other side of his desk, pretending to act uninterested.

"The only curious thing about it is the fact that Daniel knew the existence of the word 'auspicious', and used it in the right context," he said, returning to the enormous stack of paperwork in front of him.

"Oh, stop acting like you don't care!" exclaimed the little brat while snatching his invitation from its resting place. "The Cahills never do this sort of thing unless it's Christmas, and all in all, it's quite mysterious."

Ian scowled darkly. "Oi, give that back, you have your own copy!"

Natalie refused to comply. "You'll get your turn, brother dear. Patience is virtue, or so they say."

Ian snatched the paper out of her hands and sighed. "I don't have time for this, Natalie. Don't you have somewhere to be, like oh, I don't know, work?"

"I'm the head of my own company, dear," Natalie purred, examining her nails thoroughly. "I show up whenever I want, and after that nearly avoided disaster of a fashion show, I have decided that I deserve a day off." She smirked. "Plus, I don't spend every waking moment with my face buried in the paperwork my lawyers can easily sort through. I know my limits, unlike some people."

"I resent that."

"Well, I can't help that it's true." His sister hopped onto his desk - five hundred year old mahogany, he was going to _kill_ her - and flashed an excited smile. "Anyway, onto more important things, what do you think this means?"

The busy man simply growled in frustration and ran his right hand over his weary face. "I think it means that you get to wear one of your silly dresses to yet another silly party - "

"No, you moron! What do you think the occasion is?" she asked.

"I don't know, Sherlock, why don't you tell me, since you're so brilliant?" Ian responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Maybe I will," Natalie retorted. She examined the invitation more closely, and re-read it again. "Hm, well it's surprisingly elegant, for sure. And not just the writing, the whole card seems like it was precisely picked out for a very special day . . . "

By this point, Ian didn't even bother to continue listening. He just nodded, and mumbled, "Do go on, Natalie, this is _so_ riveting." What did he care about yet another party? Yes, so it was at the Cahill Mansion, big deal. Once you've attended about twenty parties each weekend, they all kind of started to blend together. And family parties were always the worst anyway! There's only so much idle chit chat and pointless gossip one can take before they become tempted to smash their head into a brick wall repeatedly.

God, he'd become such a hermit. It was almost sad, really.

"It just makes no sense," his sister huffed indignantly. She then proceeded to let out an unladylike chortle. "Maybe it's another launch party for one of Daniel's ridiculous video games. How he even manages to make any money off of his profession is beyond me, I mean, what he does doesn't even sound like a real job."

"Coming from you - "

"However," Natalie interrupted. "He never fails to let everyone know how well he's doing, and he's never too subtle about it either. Honestly, I don't ever remember receiving a non-classless invitation to one of these things that didn't go like, 'Just added more swag to my stash, and I'm holding a rager to celebrate. Come because I want to rub my success in all your faces, smiley emoticon. Love, Dan.' Has he mentioned anything to you? I know you've been getting all buddy-buddy with him in the last couple of years."

Ian scoffed.

"For the record, Dan and I have not been getting all 'buddy-buddy' with each other, or ever will for that matter. I just hang out with him casually when I have business in Boston and I'm bored," he defended. What? Turns out the cretin is actually semi-decent company after a tiring day, and can indeed think and converse like a proper human being. It was huge surprise for Ian when he found out about that unsettling truth because it immediately altered his viewpoint on the man - and for the better! - something he never saw occurring in his lifetime. Both of them still communicated with each other mostly through snarky banter - that much will never change - but there was less malice to it now. And to think that he believed Dan was borderline braindead for all those years . . .

"It just doesn't make sense!" Ian rolled his eyes again at his sister's hysteria. He knew that she liked to be the first to know everybody's business, but really, this was too much. "Unless . . . "

Natalie's eyes went as wide as saucers. "Oh my god! Oh my _god!_ Oh my - "

"Do spit it out," Ian sighed, tapping his fingers on the desk impatiently. It was either that, or strangling his aggravating urchin of a sibling if she repeated that phrase one more time.

"It said, 'Cahill Family'!" she shrieked, as if it was supposed clear everything up. It didn't. "Think Ian, last I remember, that included _one special someone._ Am I right or am I right?"

Ian could sense where this was going. _No, not possible._

"This is an engagement party," Natalie whispered. "Amy's getting married."

It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room, and while Ian didn't want to admit it, those three little words played an awfully huge part. As his muscles tensed, he tried to clear his head, attempting in vain to nonchalantly go back to his paperwork. But for once in his life, even his job couldn't distract him.

"Are you quite alright?"

Ian looked up to see Natalie's worried face peering down at him. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, if I single handedly threw away years of my life without the girl of my dreams by my side - all for the sake of sparing my pride, may I add - and then I heard that said girl was going to tie the knot with a simple buffoon . . . " She paused. "You do see how this is all a bit concerning, right?"

Ian let out a long, calming breath. "Natalie, I appreciate your worry for me, but let's get this straight: one, Amy is not the girl of my dreams - "

"And denial is not just a river in Egypt - "

" _Two,"_ he continued. "It was a lot more complicated than that, and you know it. And three, she's not getting married."

Natalie glowered. "What do you mean she's not getting married? Do you mean to suggest that it might be Daniel's engagement party?" She snickered loudly as if the mere thought of that event ever happening was simply ludicrous.

"A far off idea," Ian agreed. "But still more plausible than what you suggested."

"And why's that?" she questioned, raising a perfectly polished brow in the process.

Ian smirked. "Her idiot of a boyfriend doesn't have it in him, and we all know it."

Natalie opened her mouth to argue, but when no sound came out she had to shut it back up with a pout. Ian took her silence as agreement, and grinned with delight. What more could he say, the length of Jake Rosenbloom's ineptitude never failed to amaze him, but still, sometimes it was all too entirely predictable.

"Maybe you're right," Natalie sniffed. "After all, I would have heard about it if it were true."

Ian frowned in confusion. "How?"

His sister let out a small smile. "Hey, just because you haven't talked to her in years doesn't mean I've done the same."

 _Oh._

Natalie sighed. "Sometimes I wonder how different everything would have been if - "

"Let's not revisit memory lane, Natalie," Ian warned, and thankfully the dark-haired girl was smart enough to catch his thinly-veiled threat. She knew better than anyone that nobody wanted to show off the skeletons in their closets.

Thankfully, at that moment, Natalie's phone buzzed, instantly clearing the air of its tension and awkwardness. She frowned when she read the text, and muttered something Ian didn't quite get under her breath.

"Well, it seems like I _will_ actually be going to work today, since there is not one member of my staff that is competent enough to do their job," she declared, and Ian had to smile at her put out, sour facial expression. Sometimes after talks like these, he forgot that she was an actual functioning adult - the functioning part arguable, of course - with her own goals and ambitions. To him, she would always be his little terror - one that he would need to look out for and take care of for the rest of his life.

"Best get to it then," he said gently.

"Right," she replied, smoothing out her violet day dress. Giving him one last grimace, she started walking out the door. "We will discuss this party in more detail later. And don't even think about not going, I will drag you out to Attleboro with my bare hands if I have to. And you know I don't do hard labor!"

Ian only groaned in response.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Natalie paused in her tracks and reached into her large purse and pulled out a thick book. "You asked me to pick this up on my way here." She walked over to him and placed her souvenir right under his nose.

"Thank you," Ian responded, flipping through the pages eagerly.

"His terror" scrunched up her small nose distastefully. "I don't know how you could read that stuff! It's just so long, and doesn't seem at all like your taste. You do know it's a sappy girls' book, right?"

"It's actually not," Ian corrected. "And even if it was, why should I care, I'm not one to subscribe to gender roles - "

Natalie rolled her eyes. "'And books are gender neutral blah, blah, blah. I've heard this speech before, and I'm only teasing. I may look like an unintelligent bint, but it doesn't mean I am." She checked her watch. "Blimey, I'm already running late, those fools better know how to use the fire extinguisher! Ta-ta, darling!"

And just like that, she was gone.

Ian reclined back in his chair and stared up at his high ceiling. The conversation he had with his sister wasn't the easiest, smoothest one they've recently shared, that much was true. Quite honestly the Cahills' invitation couldn't have come at a more hectic time in his life, and that made him quite irritated. Alas, nothing for him ever came at the time he wanted it to, so thankfully he'd gotten used to that disappointment.

Sighing loudly, he pushed his paperwork away. There was no way that he was going to finish that monstrosity anytime soon. Oh well, it seemed like the Louvre was going to have to wait another day for that Picasso.

Picking up his book, he made his way to the rose garden for some fresh air. Maybe a break could give him some clarity and some much desired peace, even for a little while.

Lying down on one of the many white benches, he cracked open his novel, _A Philosopher's Mind_ , and with a hint of smile, he allowed himself to be immersed in Regina Devlin's world completely.

* * *

*gasp* SO MANY REVEALS! Well, you asked for Kabras, I delivered. ;) Dan and Ian are friends (sort of)! Ian reads Amy's books! But what happened between the two that made them stop talking to each other? Keep tuning in to find out! Also, something worth mentioning, this story _is_ a slowburn, so don't you worry fam, we'll get to the drama eventually, just not right away. Anyway, ta-ta, darlings, and until next time!


	5. Chapter 5: Where We Began

Hey, everyone! I'm so happy to see that you are enjoying the story so far, thank you for being so wonderful, it means the world! I am not sure when I will update next - school and everything - so do keep a lookout and don't think that I've dropped off the face of the Earth. I'm still with ya. I might post tomorrow or maybe this weekend, it all depends on my schedule. But we are getting to some exciting parts! Boyyyyy, if only y'all knew . . . AHHHHHH, I CAN'T WAIT THIS IS GONNA GET SO FUN. Anyway. *clears throat* I do hope that you like this chapter, and if you have time, please review, I'd love to hear from you! So . . . here is your new chapter!

* * *

 **"It's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then." - Lewis Carroll**

* * *

 **Hey, babe! I'm so sorry that I can't be there at the party with you today, work has been CRAZY. But I hope that you have a great time, and text me all about it! Love you so much, sweets, can't wait for this to be over so I could see you again. XOXO**

* * *

Amy placed the phone back on her desk and let out a long breath, perfectly laced with the mild disappointment she was currently experiencing. Deep down, she had already known that Jake wouldn't be able to make it to the surprise festivity, of course - after all, being with him meant knowing that his slave driver of a boss didn't care that her top-of-the-notch, hard working boyfriend had a life outside the office. Still, at times it hurt to witness special events - like the one occurring tonight - alone. It often left her with no one to really talk to or have a good time with, and the promise of a wonderful evening was usually ruined within the first five minutes of attendance.

 _Whatever,_ she thought, brushing through her hair as she stared into her mirror. _Tonight isn't about me._

Yes, tonight she would put on a good face, and really, _really_ try to make an effort. Which, of course, meant keeping the sarcasm on the down low, not sulking in the corner, and making polite small talk with her relatives.

 _Fuck,_ _her relatives!_

Amy groaned. How could the thought of actually interacting with the people that she called "family" simply slip her mind when she agreed to this? And why did she not already have an exit strategy prepared? What was she, a novice?

Amy felt a massive headache coming on. _This is going to be the Cahill reunion of my nightmares._

"It's cool, you're cool," she chanted to herself quietly, dabbing some makeup remover on her smudged cat eye. This was bound to happen sooner or later, though quite honestly, she would have preferred later.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Amy continued to apply her makeup, attempting to not mess it up again with her shaking hands. She hadn't seen a majority of her family in . . . well, a while, to say the least, and she had barely spoken to any of them over the years. It wasn't because she hated them, or because they didn't get along or something - well, that was the case with most of them anyway - it was simply because they had lost touch with each other as adulthood gradually consumed their lives. Or at least that's what she liked to tell herself.

Amy wondered how they would react when they saw her. Their honest thoughts frightened the the young woman more than she liked to admit.

Fastening a delicate bracelet around her wrist, Amy stood up and went to take a look at herself in the full length mirror. Veronica had let her borrow an absolutely gorgeous floor length gown which she scored from a designer friend, and although Amy objected to wearing such finery at first, she eventually gave in after much pleading from her future sister-in-law. Apparently, the dress made her look -

"So incredibly amazing, why everyone is going to have sweet dreams for a long time after seeing you like this!" squealed the bride-to-be as she barged into Amy's room.

Amy smiled at the sight of the energetic twenty-four year old. "Thanks, Veronica. You look great, too."

The brunette grinned at the compliment and gave a little twirl. Her navy blue gown had a long train, and a bunch of flowers embroidered on it, and it made the smiling O'Malley girl look like an elegant Rococo painting come to life.

"I'm so psyched for tonight! I can't believe that I'm finally going to meet your's and Dan's family. I know I should be more nervous about this, but I've found a way to channel all that negative energy into excitement, and now, I'm totally fine!" Veronica laughed, and plopped down on the bed. "God, I hope they like me."

"Of course they will! Who wouldn't?" Amy was surprised to find how much she meant that. Despite Veronica's sometimes overly enthusiastic and bubbly moments, Amy found her to be funny and sweet - maybe a little immature and naive at times, but that added to her personal charm. Yes, she found that the younger girl may have started to grow on her a little bit.

"Besides," she continued. "They honestly can't judge you. In fact, out of everyone in my social circle, I can confidently say that you are the most normal one."

Veronica giggled. "Really?"

"Oh yeah."

Smoothing out her dress, Veronica headed to the window to watch her many guests arriving in their imperially sleek rides. "Are you excited to see anyone? I know it's been a while."

Amy tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Mostly nervous, to be completely honest." She let out a soft smile. "But I guess I'm going to be happy to see one person. My former 'au pair', Nellie. She's like the big sister I never had, I don't know how I would have survived adolescence without her."

"Oh, I think I met her and her husband before! She's a caterer, right?" asked Veronica

"Yeah!" Amy responded. "You know, you should ask her to do the wedding. Her food will blow everyone away, and I'm not saying that just because she's family."

"Maybe I will!" exclaimed the brunette. "I'll ask her after 'the big reveal'."

"You do that." Amy joined Veronica at the window. "Looking for anyone?"

"Just my parents. They promised they'd be here today, and I haven't seen them in a while," the girl replied. "Is your date going to be here soon?"

Pause.

"My boyfriend works long hours, and his boss is a nightmare. I swear, I tell him to quit almost every day, but he loves the firm too much - despite its awful management," Amy complained, frowning a bit.

Veronica gave her a pitying glance, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said. "No matter, even without a date, you're still going to have an unforgettable night, promise me."

"I promise," Amy laughed, putting on a sparkling diamond necklace. The younger girl was already making her feel better . . . maybe it wasn't going to be such a terrible evening after all.

"Well, I think I should go grab Dan - we better start greeting our guests," the brunette said. "Meet us in the ballroom in five?"

"Sure."

Veronica flashed one more smile, gave herself a once over in the mirror, and left Amy alone to her thoughts.

She had five minutes to gather up the nerve to simply walk down a set of stairs. She chided herself for being so ridiculous - after all, in her short lifetime, she had been greeted with far more horrific sights than strangers in their formal wear. Yet, the thought of being in the same room as . . .

 _No,_ she thought. _It's time to stop running._

Yes, it most certainly was. With that final thought, Amy smoothed down her hair, put on the torture devices known as her shoes, and made her way out of the room.

She was ready for this.

* * *

She was _not_ ready for this.

Amy clearly underestimated the importance of this event, because _holy shit,_ the splendor and extravagance of the mansion left her lost for words. For a moment she wondered if this was really the same house that she grew up in, because it looked nothing like it. Fresh flowers were everywhere, and they made the place smell like some sort of botanical garden dreams were made of. The floors and windows shined with a blinding cleanliness Amy had never seen before, and the white glove service passed around fragile flutes of expensive champagne to the elegant guests taking in the stunning scenery. There was live entertainment, a smooth jazz band and a string quartet, as well as two separate areas - one for dancing and one for dinner. She hadn't even taken a look outside, but she was sure that it was marvelous. Everything was like a fairytale come to life.

As Amy made her way down the stairs, she surveyed the increasing crowds. Surprisingly, most of them seemed like they were made up of mainly Veronica's people - bubbly relatives and fashion industry friends, all dolled up and glamorized, and most importantly, ready to party. That was fine and dandy with her, the way she saw it, the less Cahills she had to make small talk with the better. But as she quickened her pace, a flash of ginger caught her eyes that made her stop in her tracks - Sinead. Unfortunately for her, the woman in gold spotted her, too. Sinead's eyes widened for a moment, but returned to normal size when she sent Amy a tight smile and a small wave. Amy returned the gesture with equal stiffness, and attempted to mask her bewilderment.

Regrettably, after Sinead's betrayal, the two girls were never able to fully salvage their friendship. Hell, at first, Amy couldn't even be in the same room as the redhead without wanting to tear her limb from limb for everything that she had done. But after Sinead broke down in front of her, and practically begged on her knees for forgiveness, Amy felt a twinge of pity for the girl. Along with the other branch leaders and the United States Supreme Court, she had decided to pardon the Starling for her crimes - on the condition that Sinead leave the country immediately. There was just too much blood on her hands and she had to pay in one way or another. So, Sinead would keep her life and her name, but that was all that she would keep, and she would have to live with that mercy for the rest of her existence. However, that verdict passed years ago. So, what the hell what she doing back here?

Amy closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down, but all she could remember was her own murderous screaming as if it were yesterday.

" _You nearly got Natalie killed, a thirteen-year-old girl! You nearly killed a thirteen-year-old girl! Do you know what that would have done to Ian? Ian, remember him? The one you attempted to frame and ostracize? You blackmailed Hamilton with a secret so delicate - I mean, that's - that's despicable! And don't even get me started on what you did to Jonah and his poor cousin! Oh, and me - you lied to me, your so-called best friend! And Evan, oh god, Evan! How could your depraved mind justify what you did to Evan, he wasn't even a Cahill! What is wrong with you?!"_

Snapping out of her trance, Amy sharply turned her head the other way, and swiftly pushed through the masses of socializing people. She couldn't deal with this right now, she just had to get some air. Walking briskly, she didn't notice where she was going until it was too late.

 _"Oof!"_ she let out, as she bumped into a hard body of a tall man. "Excuse me, sir."

"Amy?"

Amy's jaw dropped. It couldn't be . . . "Ham?"

The hulking blonde man beamed merrily, showing all his teeth and all but happily yelled, "Amy!" He picked the New Yorker up and twirled her in the air despite her many protests. They were attracting quite an audience, but Hamilton Holt could not care less, it's been way too long and he wasn't going to let a couple of judgy people ruin this moment. "I have missed you so much, you fearless leader you!" He lowered the blushing woman down to the ground. "Seriously, where have you been?"

Amy just stared. He seemed so . . . _happy_ to see her. Really, she had expected a much colder reception. "New York," she finally replied, still sporting a semi-dazed look.

"Still?"

"Yeah," she said, finally allowing herself to smile. "It's home."

"Whatever you say, girlie," he shrugged, grabbing at an hor d'oeuvre from a passing waiter's tray. "Mm, crab cakes, good stuff. So, how've you been? Tell me, how's life with that non-Cahill treating you?"

Amy chuckled awkwardly. "Well, Jake just got another promotion, and we have this great flat together . . . Oh, and I wrote another article for the New York Times - "

"I know, I read it." At Amy's baffled look Hamilton just rolled his eyes. "What? I know that stuff usually isn't my thing, but I got to keep up with my girl!"

Amy was so ecstatic she could've cried. Hamilton Holt read her article, which meant that despite having all the reasons to, Hamilton Holt didn't hate her. It was the best news she'd had all day.

Suddenly, there was a loud shriek. "Hamilton!"

The blonde man closed his eyes. "Lord, help me."

A young, blonde woman in a light pink dress and a tight updo marched up to Hamilton with an adamant expression. "What now, Madison?"

Madison Holt scrunched up her face into a sour visage. "You promised that you would introduce me to him, and so far, that hasn't happened! How am I supposed to judge if I've never even talked to the man?"

"Never talked to whom?"

It was then that Madison took notice of Amy's presence, and it took her a moment to form her dumbfounded look back into a poker face. "Well, well, well, ladies and gentlemen, she finally speaks after years of radio silence! Thank god that we're back in her good graces - even though we didn't do anything to deserve that unwarranted silent treatment. Tell me, Ames, what brought you back to us peasants, a change of mind or a change of heart? Or were you just forcefully dragged down here to finally say 'hi'?"

"Mads, cut it out," Hamilton barked.

"It's okay, Hamilton," Amy assured. "I deserved that."

"You still do," sneered Madison.

"Enough!" Hamilton interrupted. "And no, she doesn't. It wasn't her fault, and it's none of our business. Plus, we've already discussed this a long time ago, need I remind you, sis."

Amy raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Discussed what?

"Whatever," Madison replied, and tugged on her brother's arm. "Let's go already!"

Hamilton sighed in exasperation. "Okay, I'll tell you what - you go find him, and I'll catch up with you in a sec, okay?"

"Fine, just hurry up!" With one last look at Amy, Madison disappeared.

"Who's she trying to find?" Now it was Hamilton's turn to blush.

"My boyfriend, Matt," he whispered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Amy's eyes widened at the revelation of the Holt brother's newfound joy. "Hamilton, that's great! I'm so happy for you! And you're happy too, right?"

"Happier than I've been in a while," he replied with a grin.

Amy smiled. "I'd love to meet him, too, you know."

"And you will!" Hamilton exclaimed. "Just after my family does, they're still . . . adjusting, so to say, and I promised them that tonight they'll be the first to meet him."

"Of course, take your time," she responded.

"I'll see you around, Amy, and please don't be a stranger." Hamilton said with a thoughtful expression on his handsome face. "We all miss you, you know."

Amy felt herself tearing up when she replied, "Let's grab lunch sometime, Ham."

Hamilton smiled. "I'll hold you to that!" With that, he walked away, leaving Amy to quickly wipe at her watering orbs in peace. It seemed like she was wanted after all.

* * *

Awwwwwwwww . . . AND REVEALS! So, yeah, Sinead, huh . . . Thoughts? I know this isn't exactly like the books, but I promise it's relevant. Plus, in my opinion, I don't feel as though the books ever dealt with Sinead's treachery too well. If I were Amy (or literally any other character), I would have held great resentment for a long time if someone had betrayed me to the point of it costing lives. BUT HAMILTON! He's such a little cutie, I loved writing him. Anyway, until next time!


	6. Chapter 6: Sisters

Lemme just say . . . I love you guys. You are so awesome, and such great people, I am so grateful for your nice words. Ahhhhh, moving past that mushy gushy nonsense, I LOVED writing this chapter, like oh, sweet lord, it was just too much fun, and it shows so many adorable relationships. :)

I'm liking your theories, everyone, very interesting. *cackles evilly* Y'all are not ready (tee hee). Anyway, I don't wanna hold you up, so let's get this show on the road!

* * *

 **"Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver, the other's gold." - Unknown**

* * *

"Good seeing you, 'cuz!" Jonah Wizard shouted back at her, flashing a lopsided grin as he strolled away from Amy, steering his delicate flower of a fiancé towards Hamilton Holt's general direction.

To say that Amy was "surprised" at how the evening was turning out would have been a gross understatement. She was stunned, amazed, and honestly, quite frightened by her warm reception from the Cahill clan. With a few exceptions, the majority of her friends and family had welcomed her back with open arms and big smiles, and all in all, it was confounding. By all accounts, they should have hated her! That would have at least made _some_ sense. But then again, they were Cahills - when had _anything_ they did make _any_ sense?

Amy felt a hint of a smile creeping onto her face. For once in her life, she was grateful for their unpredictability. Turns out, it could actually work in her favor.

Suddenly, Amy felt two soft hands cover her eyes, and she gasped in shock.

"Guess who?" asked a familiar voice, and Amy squealed in joy. _Finally!_

"Oh my god, Nellie!"

Turning herself around, Amy took a good look at Nellie Maslow née Gomez, a woman whom she has always considered like an older, more extroverted sister who still managed to keep an air of responsibility and respect around her. The stunning female's brown eyes sparkled with mirth, and her short chestnut hair had a rebellious streaks of purple to match her lovely lavender gown. Amy loved it - it was like her former au pair dressed up for the occasion without changing a single quirky thing about herself.

"Oh, kiddo, I've missed you so much!" Nellie exclaimed as she hugged Amy tightly to her. "How are you? How's New York? How's lecturing? How's Jake? How's 'our friend' - "

"Whoa!" Amy interrupted, laughing at Nellie's quick questioning. "New York is beautiful, lecturing has its ups and downs, Jake is busy, and so is 'our friend'. Oh, and I'm fine, of course."

"Of course you are! I mean, look at you, you're gorgeous!" Amy blushed lightly at the compliment. "And positively glowing!"

"Only because I'm so happy to see you," Amy responded. "But enough about me - what's been going on in your life? How is Andrew? And the twins! How are my favorite troublemakers?"

Nellie rolled her eyes and linked her arm through Amy's. "Don't even get me started! I mean, Andrew's been godsend, like always. I honestly wonder what I have done in my past life to deserve a man like that - 'good' doesn't even begin to cover it. But the twins! You know, I've suspected it would happen for a long time, but as they've been growing older, I've become more certain of it." She paused dramatically. "I'm pretty sure that they could read and control minds now. And not just each others, but everyone's in close proximity to them. It's the only explanation as to how they manage to get away with literally everything!"

Amy laughed. "Are you sure it's not because you _let_ them get away with literally everything?"

Nellie scoffed in return. "Psh, what? Me? I would never! I am as strict as a prison warden with them!"

"Coming from the woman who let twelve-year-old Dan fly a plane without a pilot's licence," taunted the redhead in a singsong voice. "By himself."

Nellie bumped her shoulder playfully. "Totally untrue, that rascal stole the plane and we all know it."

"You didn't stop him."

"Well, at least he learned from his mistakes." The women glanced at each other and burst out in roaring guffaws.

"They must be what, three now?" Amy asked, wiping tears of amusement out of her eyes.

"Three _and a half._ Trust me, they will remind you every time with a fit of rage so awful you will never dare insinuate that they may be younger than they actually are again. It's one of their many control tactics," Nellie said. "Now, even though I can talk about my _beloved children_ forever, I want to know - what is this party about?"

Amy sighed. "I can't tell you."

"What?" the short-haired woman screeched. "And exactly why not?"

"It's a surprise that will be unveiled later on in the evening," she stated. "I promise, just be patient."

"Ugh, no thanks." Nellie squinted her eyes suspiciously, and took a step back from the eldest of the Cahill siblings. "It isn't . . . ?"

Though it was only for a short second, Amy spotted how Nellie's eyes quickly flashed to her left hand - or, more specifically, her ring finger. She let out a breath of discontentment at her friend's action. _Great. It has begun._

"No, it isn't," she confirmed, and Nellie groaned in frustration.

"Come on!" the culinary whiz whined. "How much time does the guy need, honestly, this is getting ridiculous!"

"Tell me about it," Amy quietly grumbled. "But don't worry! Trust me, the surprise is much more . . . surprising than that."

"Well, it must be a surprise of titanic proportion to finally get you down here," purred a silky, feminine voice, and Amy and Nellie's heads immediately snapped towards its general direction. The sight that greeted them made their jaws drop.

Tall, slender, armed and dangerous, Natalie Kabra was the epitome of the classic lady in red. Her jet black hair was pulled into a slick bun, and her gown rivaled those worn by queens and empresses thanks to its fine detailing and long, silky train. Strangers simply stared in awe at the British beauty, too gobsmacked to say or do anything in the presence of a woman who could shut them up with a simple a cool glance sent their way. Maybe to those aforementioned strangers it might've even seemed like the daughter's good looks and apathetic attitude bared uncanny resemblances to those of her deceased and infamous mother. However, Amy saw right through that ice cold facade the young girl spent her entire life building. Natalie's expressive eyes held something Isabel's never did - a kindness and vulnerability molded from the perseverance of her own strength.

Which is why, of course, the former Cahill leader boldly stepped towards the Kabra female, and pulled her into a tight embrace, an embrace that was - unsurprisingly - heartily returned. Whether she was thirteen or twenty-four, Natalie had never once stopped being her friend and family - the two had gone through too much to simply let their unique acquaintanceship die after all the tests it had endured, so they opted for becoming something akin to sisters instead - despite the many unfortunate circumstances that played part in that decision.

"Oh, it's been too long!" cooed the Barbie doll.

"We've only just spoken two weeks ago!" Amy exclaimed, chuckling slightly. Many might not associate Natalie with a "keeping up with friends" type, but Amy knew that just like anybody - maybe even more so - the young woman needed affection and attention from her peers on a consistent basis. As she had explained to the Cahill girl before, it might or might not have had something to do with growing up in a household consisting of an evil mother, a distant father, and a more or less troubled brother, all whom had in one way or another largely underestimated and ignored the runt of the family for a very long time.

"And what am I, chopped liver?" Nellie shouted, with a mock outraged tone.

Natalie just hugged the woman who was attempting to look really affronted, but was failing wonderfully. "Hey, Nellie."

Though the two weren't as tightly bound as Natalie and Amy were, the pair did come to a close second. After the terror she had endured underneath the cruel imprisonment of the Vespers, Natalie came to see Nellie as something a lot more than a glorified babysitter. She was a true friend - and sometimes even a surrogate mother - dispensing helpful advice, or just listening to the problems the young Londoner's life presented her.

"Well, Amy dear, looks like your fashion sense has taken a major uprise," Natalie commented as she scanned the Cahill up and down and detached herself from Nellie. "I must say, that dress is wonderful, even if it isn't from my line."

"Coming from you, Nat, that's the highest compliment a gal can receive," Amy replied with slight smile.

"Remind me to dress you for the next big event. I have a piece that I'm working on that would be just perfect for you." The girl scanned the room nonchalantly. "So, this is quite a posh 'shindig', as you Americans would call it - "

Nellie rolled her eyes dramatically, and took another sip of champagne.

"Are you quite certain that you cannot spill the beans just a little bit?"

The married woman among them just scoffed. "Don't even try, Nat, I've been attempting to get her to open up, but she refuses to budge."

"Yes, but darling, your methods of extortion are nothing compared to mine," Natalie pointed out. "No offense, I know you try your best."

"None taken."

"First, that may be true, and second, Natalie Kabra you wouldn't dare!" Amy exclaimed.

"Try me," teased the raven-haired girl with a smirk. "Seriously though, how's it been so far today? With your sudden return and everything."

"Quite honestly, not too bad. Actually, with a few exceptions, it's been . . . almost dreamlike," Amy replied. A lone thought suddenly popped into her head that made her face turn sour. "I saw Sinead."

There was small silence before anyone spoke.

"Wow, you really haven't heard?" Nellie asked, a strange and curious expression on her face. "I thought Dan might have been exaggerating."

Amy frowned slightly. That was one of _her_ punishments for daring to start over - she was out of the loop for everything related to Cahill business.

"Last time I saw her, she was being permanently deported," she confessed.

Natalie took a large swig of her drink. "That was supposed to be the arrangement, yes. But your government has taken a keen interest in her case again. Apparently, they're thinking of reevaluating their decision - something about her being under extreme duress during . . . during _the situation._ I reckon it has something to do with Cahills, someone of influence must have pushed for this to be done so quickly and quietly. Sadly, I haven't had the time to investigate the matter myself, I've been busy as of late. Anyway, the arrangement at the moment is that she could stay with her parents for up to five months, and is required to wear an ankle monitor at all times." She glanced at Amy. "She must also have a formal invitation to visit anyone else's home."

"Don't look at me, I didn't send her anything," Amy said. _Must've been Dan. But why?_ "Are you okay?"

Natalie let out a small snort. "Yeah, as long as the twit stays far away from me, I'm fine." Amy could see that she was anything but, however, there was really nothing she could say or do to make the younger girl feel better. It was, after all, a great ordeal that she went through. Maybe listening could help. "You know, I could've forgiven her for her rat like tendencies and for nearly getting me killed, but I draw the line at - " Once again, Natalie looked over at Amy hesitantly. "At my brother, I draw the line at Ian. What she did to him . . . now that puts a whole new weight to the word despicable."

"It was a long time ago," Nellie whispered.

"Not nearly long enough."

Amy had to agree with the Kabra female there. Emotional scars leave their mark, and Sinead's meddling and plotting was horrific, no matter how young and damaged she was back then. The Starling triplet was always considered to be a genius, so it should have come to nobody's surprise that she knew to hit where it hurt the most. Still, no one was truly prepared for the lengths that she would go to for her vendetta against Amy Cahill and the people she held close to her heart. Those type of betrayals are hard to forgive, and nearly impossible to forget.

" _I draw the line at Ian . . ."_

Ian . . .

 _I wonder if he's . . ._ Amy shook her head. _No! Not again._

The last thing she needed or wanted was a walking reminder of one of the biggest mistakes of her life.

 _How I would kill for Jake to be here right now!_ she thought, letting out a loud breath.

"Penny for your thoughts?" came Natalie's voice.

"Trust me, they're not that interesting." Oh, if only she knew. "I'm going to go get some food, do you guys want anything?"

"I'm good, but I do want to go see Dan. I think I'm going to go find him," Nellie asked.

"I'll join you," Natalie said. "It's been awhile since I mercilessly mocked Daniel, and I do rather enjoy that blessed pastime."

Amy giggled. "You two have fun."

It might have been her imagination playing with her, but she could have sworn Natalie's eyes flash over her shoulder and widen for a split second before returning back to normal. One thing that she was sure she wasn't imagining was that the brunette left with a hint of a simper on her lips. Interesting.

As Amy made her way across the ballroom looking for a waiter passing around those delicious finger sandwiches, she wished that Veronica would have had dinner served earlier. Her stomach grumbled with dissatisfaction, and she blushed furiously at its loud sounds which were attracting the attention of some snickering guests. Amy was so fixated on her slight embarrassment that she wasn't really paying attention as to where she was going.

The next thing that happened could be interpreted in many different ways. Maybe it was fate, or maybe just another one of her klutzy moments, but Amy tripped over her long dress, and stumbled straight into a man, for the second time that evening. However, this time, both came crashing down onto the marble floor beneath them.

To say the least, she was mortified. "Sir, I am so, so sorry, really I have no idea what has gotten into me tonight, I swear I am not usually like this - "

"Past experience begs to differ."

And at the sound of that voice, she froze, only registering the first three things that came to her brain. British. Clove. Armani suit. _Fuck my life._

Daring herself to finally look upon the face of the man that she was currently sprawled all over, her suspicions were confirmed. High cheekbones framed his expressive amber eyes and accentuated his jawline, drawing attention to his full lips as a stray piece of wavy black hair broke away from it's tight gelled hold on top of his head. He pushed it back into place, never once breaking eye contact with Amy, or making any move to get out from underneath her weight, almost leading her to believe that he enjoyed being there. Almost.

She knew she should have broken that gaze, got up and walked away like their accidental meeting never happened, but blame it on shock or literally anything else, she couldn't for the life of her look away.

The man smirked softly, and Amy swore that her heart was going to jump out of its chest cavity.

"Hello, lover," whispered the one and only Ian Kabra.

* * *

DUN DUN DUNNNNNN! CLIFFHANGERS GALORE! Also, for anyone who thinks I've made a mistake by having Ian say "lover" instead of "love", nope, that was purposely done, trust me - and also partially inspired by the song "Hello Lover" by the Empires (give it a listen, you won't regret it). I have a feeling you guys are going to LOVE the next couple of chapters though (tee hee). Who's ready for some drama?


	7. Chapter 7: Baby

Good evening, everyone! So yes, last we left off with a major cliffhanger . . . *devilishly laughs* this is going to be so much fun! However, in the reviews (which have been lovely, thank you), I have noticed a major question popping up: what did Sinead do to Ian, and was it in the books? Well, I'm actually going to answer that, since it's not really a spoiler. So, it is - in fact - half and half. Yes, it was in the books, and also part of it came from my imagination. The part that's from the books is the _main_ reason why Natalie despises Sinead so much - Sinead attempted to frame Ian for her crimes, and nearly got away with it. She played on Ian's biggest insecurities, and successfully managed to isolate him from his family, torturing him emotionally and making him feel like an outcast that could never belong. And the worst part about that is that everybody bought her lies about him being Vesper Three, and it was like Ian's nightmares came true - nobody liked, trusted, or wanted him, just like he always feared.

I always thought that the books totally glossed over that part, and that Ian's struggle to belong was kind of overlooked. That's why I just couldn't make Sinead and the Cahills friends again - it didn't feel justified.

The part that's my imagination might have a little bit of a spoiler in it, so I'm not gonna reveal too much, but in short, Sinead did something that almost led to Natalie's death - which, if it would have happened (and in this story it obviously didn't), would have left Ian completely alone, heartbroken, and vulnerable. I believe that after losing everyone, Ian would have followed a very self-destructive path that could have - no, _would_ have - ended up in an untimely demise (another thing I think the books got wrong - after Natalie's death in the second series, Ian was like, "Well, that did suck, but no time to actually express genuine human feeling. Who cares if I'm all alone with nobody to help and support me? Maybe I should go date some random ass blonde chick - even if there are totally better options - and just go back to being two-dimensional and irrational. Yeah, who cares about my character potential and all the good it could do for young readers everywhere. Showcasing depression, the loss of a loved one, and how one deals through it and ultimately overcomes it is so yesterday, anyway.")

Sorry about that rant, I don't mean to offend, honestly, I just have A LOT of feelings on the subject, and trust me, if I didn't have a chapter to show, I could go on and on.

Anyway, that was super long, but I'll answer one more question: Mademoiselle! Yes, I did post this story on the 39 Clues website, however, it's definitely more of a rough draft. No, it's not finished there either, and I don't plan to finish it on that site. But don't worry, I _do_ plan to finish this story _on this site_ , so you're gonna have lots and lots of more reading material my friend!

Ok, so now I really have to get to the chapter. Again, thank you beautiful people for all your encouraging words. They have been most helpful, truly. Without further ado, here is your next chapter!

* * *

 **"Could a scar be like the rings of a tree, reopened with each emotional season?" - Magenta Periwinkle**

* * *

Lover.

Lover.

 _Lover._

Seems like someone had graduated onto more scandalous nicknames. Amy wasn't sure if she should still attempt to make a run for it and humiliate herself further, however, she did know that she should probably say _something_ to keep that awful silence from getting any more awkward. Anything, really; a clever anecdote, or perhaps a comment about the weather - ooh, maybe even a humorous catchphrase!

But no, the only response that came to her lips was a bewildered, "Ian." How eloquent.

The man in question raised a perfectly defined brow and cocked his head to one side, as if to say, " _That's it?"_

But the green-eyed woman didn't know what else there was to say. The pair's extensively shared history made words useless in these types of situations - situations that she had never intended to face in reality.

How long has it even been since she last uttered a word to the eldest Kabra sibling? Oh yes, _five years._

Truthfully, she didn't think that she would still care by now. Didn't think that the mere sight of him would still have the capacity to render her totally speechless. But then again, Ian was always good on that front.

 _My life just got a thousand times more complicated._

"Amy darling, Nellie was wondering - oh, dear." It was at the sound of Natalie's voice that Amy realized that she was still completely spread all over the girl's brother, and she hastily scrambled off of him, an ugly scarlet flush consuming her face. Ian got up with a bit more dignity, but unless she was mistaken, he too had a little rosy pink coloring staining his cheeks.

Natalie just stared at both of them with pity and a hint of mirth, like this was a laughable situation, god forbid. "Did I interrupt something?"

"No!" the two all but yelled.

"Everything is fine," Amy added quickly, her face still looking like the envy of every tomato in town.

Natalie didn't even attempt to look convinced. "Yes, I can see that."

The red turned twenty shades darker. "Um - "

"Ian!" a sweet female voice called, immediately capturing the attention of the trio.

Ethereal, tall, leggy, blonde, and sporting a tight orange dress that would have looked hideous on anybody else, the woman used the ballroom as her own personal runway, making any man nearby openly gawk at her beauty. She looped her arm through Ian's and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Hi, gorgeous!"

Ian flashed her a tight lipped smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hey."

It was then that the blonde took notice of the women in her presence - one looking completely stupefied and the other just incredibly annoyed. She quickly turned her attention to Natalie.

"Nat!" the woman screeched, flashing the younger Kabra a sickeningly sweet, yet somehow feral grin. "It's been so long! You look great, whatever you've done with your skin is such an improvement!"

It took all of Amy's strength to not drop her jaw to the floor. She quickly glanced at Natalie and saw a glimpse of murder in the girl's eyes. Oh, this was not good.

"Aries," Natalie managed to grind out after a long pause. "I'm so . . . happy to see you."

The two girls exchanged air kisses, Aries looking blissfully content and Natalie looking like she would rather be anywhere in the world but Attleboro right now. Both pulled away with equally fake expressions on their pretty faces.

Finally, Aries turned to acknowledge Amy, though to her it seemed less like an acknowledgement and more like an evaluation of some sort. Amy had to admit it - she felt a little bit . . . well, small under the woman's gaze, and it wasn't just because she towered over her like a giant.

"Aries," Natalie started. "May I introduce you to one of my greatest friends, Miss Amy Cahill - "

"Oh!" Aries interrupted. "You're one of the hosts, right? Ian told me a little bit about you!"

Amy glanced at the dark haired man to find him suddenly really interested in his shoes. _Strange, what exactly did he say?_

"Yeah, that would be me."

The blonde flashed a brilliant smile. "I'm so glad to finally meet you!" Aries leaned closer to her and stage whispered, "Oh, and congratulations."

Amy frowned in response. _What?_ Aries didn't know about Jake, so it couldn't have been another one of those ridiculous _"I knew he had it in him!"_ sort of felicitations.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, confusion written all over her face.

Aries giggled, and Natalie rolled her eyes. "What are you talking about, Aries?" the brunette snapped.

Aries looked like she was going to burst, the poor girl was almost jumping up and down in excitement. Finally, it seemed like she couldn't contain her secret any longer.

Amy would look back on this moment and wish that she had.

" _Congratulations on the baby!"_ Aries screamed. Very loudly.

Heads turned. Natalie's champagne flute shattered on the floor. Ian looked nothing short of horrified. And Amy just wished that the ground could swallow her whole.

"W-what baby?" she finally managed to let out after a long pause.

"Your baby, silly! This is what the party is for, after all!" exclaimed Aries, clueless as ever. "You must be what, five months along now? I have a knack for knowing these things, you know - maternal instincts. So, who's the daddy? When's the due date? Ooh, can I rub your belly, I hear it bring good lu - "

"Aries," Ian barked so sharply Amy and Natalie both flinched. He looked positively livid, but sadly, neither his tone nor obviously pissed off facial expression had the desired effect on his own date. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he said in the calmest voice possible, "Why don't you go get us a couple of drinks?"

Aries smiled that vacant smile of hers, thankfully forgetting all about Amy's non-existent child-to-be. "Okay." She gave Ian's hand a squeeze. "See you soon, love."

Ian couldn't even manage to grace her with a semi-polite response.

". . . What just happened?" Natalie asked, shock still written all over her face.

Amy couldn't blame her. She also didn't factor in a stranger barging into her old house and insisting that her outfit made her look so fat, the only explanation to it was that she must be carrying a child. She had to admit, that did sting a little, especially since she actually kind of felt a little bit pretty in that dress. Emphasis on felt. No matter, she couldn't let it get to her. So, with a deep breath, Amy gathered her senses and quietly said, "I think Ian's girlfriend here just told me I look five months pregnant."

She walked away to the sound of Natalie's feminine hand hitting the back of her brother's thick skull.

* * *

"Ow!" Ian shouted, clutching his head in obvious pain. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Oh, don't play dumb, Ian! It was never one of your more attractive looks," Natalie retorted aggressively, arms folding in front of her chest in the process. "What were you thinking, you fool? Bringing her here? Her, out of literally any other girl on the planet?"

"Relax, Natalie," Ian attempted to soothe. Unfortunately, his words had the opposite effect as his sister turned to give him another smack. Thankfully, he was prepared for it this time. "I couldn't get a date on time, and she was the only girl in the area who was available - ow, stop it!"

"Go single then, you moron! You know that American ninny has no filter!" Natalie yelled. "Or brain!" The brunette took a deep, cleansing breath and rubbed her temples. "I cannot believe she said that to Amy."

Ian sighed. Truthfully, he shouldn't have put it past Aries Scott to say something so utterly thoughtless and rude - and untrue, for that matter. It was so in the female's character, and Ian berated himself for not seeing something like that coming. The guilt and embarrassment he felt when thinking back to the image of Amy's face deflating by the second at Aries' "observation" was little too strong for his liking.

 _How in the world did she even come up with that?_ Ian thought to himself.

In his honest and completely unbiased opinion, Ian believed that Amy Cahill looked . . . well, radiant - and not at all in the maternal way that his date had suggested. Her auburn hair in waves, and her green eyes holding that mysterious sparkle, and that dress - oh, the dress! - pooling around her feet like some sort of lake of gray tulle. She looked like a bloody princess, anyone with functioning vision could see that.

"Looking for someone?" Natalie said, breaking him out of his reverie. Ian glanced at his sister and found her slyly smirking at him, clearly letting him know that she saw him scanning the crowds eagerly for the female Cahill sibling.

Ian just rolled his eyes in return, but said nothing as Natalie grinned in triumph. "You know, there's this revolutionary concept called talking about the past. You two love birds should try it, maybe it could resolve some of your deep rooted issues."

"Do shut up," Ian grumbled. "And there's nothing to resolve. Amy and I are fine."

"Oh, I could see that from the way you two were clearly able to converse indifferently, and go on your merry way. Heaven forbid if you weren't able to string two words together and just kept staring at each other like you were from different planets - now that would give people a whole different impression." Natalie raised an eyebrow. "Let's not tell lies, Ian."

"I'm not - "

"And let's not forget that the last time you saw her, she ran away to New York forever without so much as a goodbye. An evening not too unlike this one, if I am correct. Suit and tie, fancy dress, Cahill mansion . . . history sure likes to repeat itself, doesn't it? Must hurt."

He didn't have a witty retort against her statement this time - in classic Natalie fashion, she had struck way below the belt. Ian scowled deeply - he sure didn't need a reminder of that blasted night. "I'm going to go find Aries."

"Yes, you go do that," Natalie said. "With any luck, maybe she'll turn up in a body bag."

"Natalie!"

"Only kidding!" she called as he started walking away from his pest of a little sister. "Gosh, some people are just way too serious."

* * *

As Natalie strolled through the ballroom, she contemplated what she was just bared witness to five minutes earlier.

Amy and Ian . . . Ian and Amy . . . A tale spanning over a decade with seemingly no positive conclusion anywhere in sight. Or at least, that's what the skeptics believed.

Natalie, however, couldn't agree any less. She still had hope that one day - and maybe one day soon - the two would work out their differences, accept their similarities, and build a life _together,_ like they were always supposed to do. Natalie smirked to herself. She knew that her brother was _still_ not as immune to Amy Cahill's charms as he'd like to believe, just like she knew that with the glances the Cahill threw his way, Amy cared a little more than she would have liked to let on. It was absolutely insufferable the way their pride and distrust took priority over their own hearts. They could save so much time if they'd just stop taking those dumb little detours of theirs.

 _But what do I know?_ she thought sarcastically. It's not like she understood even a little bit about love and loss herself, right?

God, how she wished that were true.

"Excuse me," she said stiffly as she bumped into someone. Honestly, who's bright idea was it to stuff so many people into one room anyway?

"Natalie?" The brunette looked up and met the eyes of one Dan Cahill. Wonderful, just what she needed.

She scoffed snootily. "I take it back - excuse _you,_ not me. I nearly forgot that I don't apologize to plebs."

"Well, I see you're just a ray of sunshine, like always," Dan responded in a monotone voice, sporting a very annoyed expression. Natalie rolled her eyes in response. Alright, so maybe Dan wasn't as awful as he used to be - and not nearly as bad to look at, if she was truly being honest - but he was still Dan and she was still herself, so harmless banter back and forth was a given.

"Nellie's looking for you, though I can't imagine why," she said scanning him up and down. "From where I'm standing, there's not much to see."

"Maybe you should change your point of view then," he retorted.

"Touché," she acknowledged. "Someone's gotten a bit feisty."

"Someone's still feisty."

Natalie sniffed. "I like to keep my tongue as sharp as my daggers. Anybody with a brain knows that." She looked at him with mock pity. "But then again . . . where did your's run off to this time? It's so hard to keep track these days."

Dan rolled his eyes dramatically. "Well, this was enlightening. Bye, Natalie, I'm going to go find my f - " He stopped himself suddenly.

Natalie narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Do go on, this is just getting interesting."

"Girlfriend," Dan quickly said. "I'm going to go find my girlfriend."

"Daniel, you do realize that you cannot actually _date_ imaginary people - "

"She's real, Nat," Dan growled.

"Oh, really?" Natalie challenged.

"Yes, you devil incarnate," Dan huffed. "Her name's Veronica."

And at the sound of that name, Natalie felt a chill creep up her spine. She briefly considered throwing up, right then and there. But then she remembered who she was - a lady, and a British one at that. And proper women of high stature did not make a scene, that was a rule she lived by.

 _It's only a coincidence,_ she thought, attempting to calm down her racing pulse.

"Hey," Dan's voice called, actually sounding mildly concerned for her wellbeing. "Are you okay? You look kind of pale."

Natalie straightened up right away at his comment. _It's only a coincidence._ "I'm fine, I just . . ." She cleared her throat. "This was delightful, but sadly, I have to go. You know, things to do, people to see . . ."

"Okay," Dan responded, suspicion thoroughly laced in his voice. "Well, bye then."

"Yes, farewell," Natalie called as she rushed away from the incredibly confused Cahill man.

 _I have nothing to worry about,_ she thought. _Veronica is a very common name._

 _Right?_

* * *

And the plot thickens! Thoughts on Aries? I'm sure we have a lot. What about Dan and Natalie? Who's sass is more on point? How about Natalie and _Veronica?_ I wonder what happened there . . . Stay tuned, my darlings, it's about to become a hell of a ride!


	8. Chapter 8: Guys and Dolls

Hello, my darlings! It is that time again - a new chapter for y'all! I'm glad to see the positive reviews, and even get some from new guest readers - hello, new friends! Well, last chapter was quite enlightening - Aries was certainly interesting, and what happened to Natalie and Veronica? Hmmmmmmm . . . I am very curious to see where this will go . . . XD. Anyway, let's just jump into another chapter!

* * *

 **"You realize that our mistrust of the future makes it hard to give up the past." - Chuck Palahniuk**

* * *

"She said that?" Nellie yelled, her brown eyes widening in outrage. "Oh my god, that bi - "

"Nellie!"

" - ig nincompoop!" Nellie finished. She looked at Amy with an amused expression. "What? What did you think I was going to say?"

Amy laughed. The Maslow's humor was just the medicine she needed to take her mind off of the presently occurring and also one of the most disastrous evenings of her life. She frowned slightly. Still, it could only do so much.

Aries was . . . well, _problematic,_ at best. Problematic - and not evil - because Amy didn't really think that the blonde had any _actual_ intent to brashly and publicly offend others. Hell, Amy even wondered if she was even aware of how hurtful and rude her comments were. She had no doubt that the statuesque woman did that to several people in her life, however harmless she intended her criticism and assumptions to be. Amy even felt a little bit bad for the girl, who presented undeniable symptoms of general cluelessness and word vomit. However, she didn't allow herself to feel too poorly. A seemingly highbred, beautiful _adult_ woman like her should know better. Ignorance may be bliss, but willful ignorance is just stupidity.

Just then, Amy spotted Natalie hurrying to the beverage table where she and Nellie had taken up residence. "Hey Nat - whoa, are you okay?"

The young, pale Lucian ignored Amy's question, and shakily reached for the first drink she saw, downing it in one gulp. Amy's eyes doubled their size.

"Um, I don't think that's water - " Nellie started, but Natalie just waved her off.

"What's going on?" Amy asked worriedly. She hadn't seen Natalie this distressed in a very long time, which was a cause for concern in its own right.

"It's nothing, everything's fine, I'm fine, just peachy," Natalie rambled, attempting to reassure the women, but failing miserably. "I just . . . I think I might be getting sick or something."

Amy and Nellie exchanged a dubious glance. It was very obvious that Natalie was lying, and though Amy was dying to know what it was that had the fearless female so shook, she knew that now was not the time for an interrogation. Perhaps later, when they weren't surrounded by eavesdroppers and and curious bystanders.

"But how are you though?" Natalie said, changing the subject briskly. "That was rough, I'm so sorry."

Amy chuckled. "Don't worry about it, it only stung for a second."

"Well, you took it like a champ," Natalie congratulated.

"Unlike you!" Amy exclaimed. "You looked like you were going to vaporize Aries when she made that comment about your skin!"

"I would pay good money to see that," Nellie added.

Natalie grabbed another drink. "I've been planning her murder for ages, but Ian won't let me go through with it. God knows why, he hates the woman." Amy cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Speaking of my dear, demented brother . . . "

Amy shut her eyes in dread. If given the chance, she would have gladly recited all of her most embarrassing moments to CNN rather than gossip about Ian Kabra's role in the evening's shenanigans with her small group of girl friends.

Finally, she allowed herself to say something. "His tastes have certainly changed."

"Well, the bar _was_ set pretty high," Natalie commented. "And no girl could exceed the impossible standards you've imposed on his love life."

Amy swallowed painfully, a memory popping into her head that could prove Natalie otherwise. _If only that were true._

She caught the watchful eye of Nellie, who threw a compassionate glance in her direction. The older woman was the only one who knew what Amy was going through at that moment. After all, she was there to witness her meltdown after it all fell apart, and therefore was the only one that understood the precariousness of Amy's secret dilemma, and the reason as to why it was a secret.

Amy hated herself for it. She hated herself for the people she had almost hurt, for the people she _had_ hurt, and for the ones who didn't even know that she had hurt them. She hated herself for her stupid emotions, and she despised herself for the aftermath she cunningly deserted. But most of all, she hated herself for believing that her blind recklessness could possibly achieve anything good, even for a minute.

"Amy?" Natalie said, calling her back from her reverie.

That's when it hit her that she hadn't given a proper reply yet. "I - "

 _Ding, ding, ding!_

Saved by the bell.

"Dinner is served," announced the butler, and Amy swore that she had never heard better news.

* * *

 _Thump, thump._

Amy sighed dramatically as she made herself look up from her delicious food, only to find her brother struggling to work a microphone in front of three hundred people. She would have burst out laughing at the vision of Dan Cahill tripping over an aux cord if her mouth wasn't so completely stuffed.

"Oh, Daniel," Natalie commented wryly while going back to her salad. "Is there anything he can't do except literally everything?"

Nellie snickered at her comment, and even Amy allowed herself to let out a guilty chortle at the girl's remark. Finally, her little brother managed to get the hang of it, and cleared his throat in order to gain the room's attention . . . even though everyone's eyes were already on him.

"Uh, yeah, um, sorry about that! Technical difficulties." He paused, unsure of what to say next. Amy threw him an encouraging smile. This was his big moment, and however many her doubts were, she needed Dan to know that she would always be behind him. He returned her grin hesitantly. "So, something remarkable happened a couple of days ago, and for once, it had nothing to do with building a whole fictional world and making billions off of it."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Bragging, of course. Stay classy, Daniel."

Amy shushed her.

"Actually, it has a little bit more to do with building a new life, in a real world. Our world. And when someone decides to start over, and grow up, they usually come to realize that it is best to start over with somebody else. Somebody who is cute, fun, smart, and who gives them hope when all hope is lost. Somebody who makes them happy."

Amy was intent on believing that it was a coincidence her eyes found Ian's amber ones at that moment. She looked away, trying to pretend that their shared gaze didn't happen.

"Is this going where I _think_ it's going?" Nellie whispered, hanging on to Dan's every word.

"Oh my god, pigs _can_ fly," Natalie said, looking dumbstruck. Amy smirked.

"With that mushy gushy nonsense, it is my greatest pleasure to announce my engagement - " Loud whispers began to erupt. " - to a most brilliant and beautiful woman. Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce you to my fiancé, Veronica O'Malley."

Cheers, catcalls, and applause rang out as the beaming chestnut-haired girl made her way over to Dan and planted a chaste kiss on his lips.

But among the celebratory clinking of glasses, Amy noticed that there were two people in the room who did not seem at all happy with this sudden new development. In fact, Ian and Natalie Kabra looked nothing short of ashen.

It was then that Natalie got up from her seat abruptly, almost knocking her chair down in the process. "Excuse me, I seem to have forgotten - "

Amy had enough.

"Natalie, what is going on?" she pressed, tired of the games now. Something was seriously wrong, and Amy was left with the impression that it might have had something to do with Dan's announcement.

"Yeah, kiddo, I don't like this. You gotta spill, so we can at least try to help you," Nellie said, backing Amy up. The woman also wore a puzzled and concerned expression on her face, but Natalie was having none of it.

"N-nothing is wrong," the shakily responded. "I'm just going to go to the bathroom really quickly, alright?" With that, she rapidly left the table, looking as if she were close to tears.

Nellie shook her head and sighed. "This gives me all sorts of weird juju."

Amy couldn't agree more. As she watched her friend go, she remembered the last time she saw her in such a state. It had been years, and the situation back then was as serious as the plague. To get such a reaction out of Natalie, her current predicament had to be as bad as that unfortunate incident . . . maybe even worse. Amy narrowed her eyes when the woman in question passed Ian's seat. The man grabbed his sister's wrist and said something Amy couldn't quite make out. She watched with great interest as Natalie angrily wrestled her hand away from his grasp, and stomped off despite the eldest Kabra's calls of her name. If her eyes were to be trusted, Ian looked . . . troubled. Maybe even a little bit frightened, too.

Amy frowned. She wasn't usually the type to stick her nose into other people's business, but this called for some serious interference.

 _I am going to get to the bottom of this, so help me god._

* * *

Ian glared viciously at Veronica O'Malley, hoping to burn holes into her vile little head.

He couldn't believe his luck. First, Amy Cahill practically ran over him, and it went just as well as one could expect, with his _lovely_ date making things oh-so-much better. Not. And then, just to put a cherry on top of that fantastic cake, his friend, the one and only Dan Cahill, announces that he is to be _married_ to the world's most deceiving and all round horrible living being. One who had single handedly attempted to ruin his sister's life, cost him a small fortune in legal bills, and nearly tore apart his family's rebuilt good reputation.

And after all that . . . _evilness,_ one would think karma would do something about that. But no, her big punishment was marrying into one of the most powerful and influential families on the planet. Life really wasn't fair.

"Hi, everybody!" Veronica said, smiling brightly. Ian just scowled and went back to stabbing his steak, imagining it was the bride-to-be. "May I just say that I am so honored and excited to have you here, and for those on Dan's side of the family, if I haven't met you yet, I cannot wait to do so. After all, we'll be spending a lot more time together in the next couple of years!"

 _Oh yeah, I really cannot wait to see you at those family reunions, V,_ Ian thought to himself sarcastically. _Why, I'm practically jumping up and down with joy!_

He rolled his eyes. Could Dan's tastes get any worse?

"Before I let you get back to your dinners and conversations, I wanted to let my maid-of-honor, Amy, and Dan's best man, Atticus, quickly announce the bridesmaid and groomsmen arrangements. I know it's all happening so fast, so you don't have to give us an official answer tonight, but please think about it! It would mean a whole lot to the both of us to have you there to help us prepare for our big day."

The better Rosenbloom brother - in Ian's opinion - stepped forward to the sound of polite applause, and took the mic from Veronica. "Hey everyone, I'm Atticus, for those who don't know. I don't really have a speech prepared, but um . . . " He looked at the happy couple. "Congrats to you guys, I'm really glad that you chose me to be there for you on your road to blissful matrimony." There was some faint laughter. "Tonight, I will be announcing the ladies of Veronica's fabulous court. When announced, please step up by me, and everyone, give them a nice round of applause. Without further ado, let's give a warm welcome to to Ashley Farwell, Emma Stafford, Keira Martinez, and Nellie Maslow!"

The ladies made their way towards Atticus and lined themselves up in order to be in full view. Ian didn't recognize any of them, except of course, the married former au pair. Nellie looked particularly happy to be chosen, and she kept throwing Dan cheeky winks and smiles. Ian smirked slightly. Too bad she didn't know what her former ward was about to get himself into.

"Now, to announce the groomsmen, please welcome the maid-of-honor, Miss Amy Cahill!"

Though Ian hated himself for it, he sat up a bit straighter in his seat. Amy glided up to the front, gave Atticus a short but tight hug, and took a piece of paper from his hands. For once, Ian was very glad that Aries was off chatting up some old millionaire with a heart defect at the next table, otherwise, she might have noticed his sudden interest in wedding planning, and made some sort of loud and inappropriate comment about it. It seemed like God was on his side this time.

Ian noticed how Amy frowned when she glanced at the paper, and he wondered what that was about. But then, as if she flipped a switch, she was back to smiling.

"Uh, hi guys, it's great to see you all, new faces and old," she said, scanning the crowds. She turned to her sibling. "To my dear brother Dan, I just wanted to say that I am so proud of you, and happy that your life is turning out just the way you wanted it to. You have grown into an impeccable human being, and I cannot wait for you to further your growth with someone you love - my future sister, Veronica. You two really are a match made in heaven."

There was collective awwing through the masses of people at Amy's sweet sentimentality. Even Ian couldn't help but melt a little at her words. Even after everything that happened to her, she never changed, never lost that general sweetness that made her so wonderfully her. He admired that optimistic air she had about her - it was incredibly refreshing.

"Well, excuse my over dramatic self, but I think that it's time to announce our groomsmen. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Hamilton Holt, Jonah Wizard, Abe Donoghue, and um, Ian Kabra."

His eyes snapped up to meet a pair of equally confused and uncertain jade orbs. Ian gulped as he stood up, and made his way towards the front - never once breaking his staring contest with Amy.

The applause was ringing in his ears, and he dutifully squeezed out the fakest smile he could manage. But as his stomach filled up with dread, he looked at the girl he once dared to love and knew that everything was about to change.

* * *

Amy and Ian, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G . . . First comes utter hatred, then comes a bit of acceptance, and then there's -

Okay, there's too many steps. Well, I hope you guys liked this chapter! I definitely had a little trouble with it. Thoughts? How is Veronica looking to you right now? Amy and Ian though. What's up there? Looking forward to hearing from you, lovies, and here's a question: what's you favorite fall show, movie, or book to read or watch?


	9. Chapter 9: You, Me, and Our Baggage

Hello again, mon amis! Thank you so much for your reviews, it has been an absolute treat hearing from all of you! Okay, so before we start this chapter I just gotta say: this is my favorite chapter that I've written so far. It's just been so much fun experimenting with this one and adding more to our favorite couple's backstories. This chapter was also inspired by some actual events in my life, so writing it was definitely a helpful experience for me, in terms of helping me get over some issues. May I recommend some soundtrack choices while you read? "Another Love" by Tom Odell for the first part, or "Dumbledore's Farewell" by Nicholas Hooper, if you're more of an instrumental type, "We Keep In Touch, Okay? by Ralf Wengenmayer for the second part, "Sunday Candy" by Donnie Trumpet & The Social Experiment for the third part (definitely give this a listen before you read the third part), and "Can't Pretend" by Tom Odell for the fourth part.

Just before we start, I do have to put a trigger warning: some parts of this chapter are a bit delicate, and deal with sensitive topics such as depression, guilt, and suicidal thoughts. If you are experiencing anything akin to what the character in this story is experiencing, I encourage you to talk to someone you trust or seek professional help. You are important, and worth it, and not alone.

On a happier note, I hope that you enjoy this part, and do leave a review, I love hearing from you and it definitely motivates me to keep going! Love you all, and enjoy!

* * *

 **"Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards." - Søren Kierkegaard**

* * *

 _Eleven Years Prior_

* * *

She couldn't even remember a day when she was this hysterical about anything, however horrible it was - and maybe that was the problem. Grief demanded an outlet, but when one suppresses it for such a long time, it's bound to come out at the most inconvenient hour.

Two weeks. _Two weeks_ consisting of a never ending parade of funerals, and memorials, and written statements for faceless government officials, and arguing with branch leaders . . . It was like watching everything she had carefully built collapse right in front of her on repeat. Yet, she still managed to keep it together, even when she had to give the eulogy at Alistair Oh's funeral, or when her ex-boyfriend's parents slammed their door in her face after telling her that it was _her fault_ that their boy was dead. She wouldn't allow herself to cry even then. She flipped a switch, and it was all going to be okay, if she just made it through the next couple of days and didn't talk about it . . . took the beating and soldiered on. Then maybe the pain would numb after a while. Just like it did when her parents died, or when Grace passed, or when literally any other traumatic event happened in her sixteen years on the planet. She was just going to lock it away in her Pandora's box and never look at it again, and it would be just fine.

But the thing about Pandora's box is that no matter how hard one tries, it just never stays shut.

She just couldn't believe that her breaking point was her best friend's trial.

Though a Supreme Court case, this one would never be mentioned in the papers. The Cahills made sure of that, and the judge was completely behind its secrecy, for it meant that the perpetrator would never be glorified, or idealized, or even discussed. There would be no movies, books, or TV shows dedicated to solving the mystery of what drove such a beautiful young girl to such depraved acts of humanity. It would be like Sinead Starling had never existed at all, like everything she had done was just a bad dream.

Guilty was the obvious verdict, of course.

" _You are charged with being an accessory to the murders of Erasmus Yilmaz, Alastair Oh, Evan Tolliver, and Isabel Kabra, the attempted murder of Natalie Kabra, multiple counts of kidnapping of adults and minors, theft, conspiracy, fraud, obstruction of justice, frame up, assault, cyber terrorism, treason . . . "_

By the end of that list, she had a hard time convincing herself - let alone the jury - to not give Sinead the death penalty like they all desperately wanted to.

Eventually, it was her moral compass that won her over. Sinead wasn't that much older than herself, and as far as she was concerned she was just as guilty as the criminal. She just fought on the right side, so to most, she was simply a bystander caught up in her family's twisted games. Outside of the Cahills, few knew that she was actually the head bitch of said family's hierarchy.

She threw up again, letting out a choked sob in the process. God, she was a sick human being for just letting it all happen, for dragging innocent people into her messy, messy life. She should be spending the rest of her life in isolation, too.

Or better yet, six feet under, alongside every person she failed to protect.

 _Bang, bang, bang!_

"Amy, please, _please_ let us help you!" her brother yelled on the other side of the bathroom door.

She just cried harder and louder. Their knocks were getting more and more desperate, begging her to let them in, to let them help. All of them.

She knew that they probably blamed themselves for not seeing the signs of her imminent breakdown earlier, and only being suspicious after noticing that she had been in the bathroom for about an hour. Now it was too late - they were locked out, and she was unstable. It was not a good combination.

She pushed herself away from the toilet, and clawed her way over to the sink. She needed to straighten up, get it together . . . That plan went out the window when with one look in the mirror. She looked like those monsters parents warned their children about with her sunken eyes, pale face, and overall frail yet slightly insane disposition.

 _A monster._

That's what his parents had called her. Well, what's hidden inside comes out eventually, so she guessed that they were right.

She screamed, and with all her might punched her reflection, watching the mirror shatter while cutting her palms every which way.

For a second, there was complete silence on the other side of the door, before all hell broke loose. Yelling, crying, and a lot of banging on the barrier that physically separated her and her friends. She heard her _new_ boyfriend begging and bargaining with her to let him in. She wondered, would he end up just like the old one? The thought almost made her laugh. This was crazy.

"AMELIA, OPEN THE DOOR!" roared a familiar British voice. Poor, poor Ian. After all this time, and they were still trapped on opposite ends with something standing in between. It was almost poetic, really.

She sunk to her knees and stared at her fingers. Well, now she _really_ had blood on her hands. Another tear rolled down her cheeks, and she thought about who's blood it might have been this time. Her mom's? Her dad's? Evan's? Heck, maybe it was even Isabel's. But did it really matter? She was only sixteen, and she couldn't even remember how many deaths were on her conscience. How fucked up was that?

She stood up and attempted to wash it off, but it just kept reappearing. She wailed in frustration.

 _Bang!_

She didn't even bother turning around when somebody had finally knocked the door off its hinges. There was complete and utter silence as everyone just stared at her furiously scrubbing her hands together.

"Amy," she heard Ian say softly, as he tentatively moved towards her, pieces of mirror crunching beneath his feet.

She scrubbed harder. "It's not coming off."

"Jonah, go get a first aid kit. Now." She heard him wince, as he carefully took her blood soaked hands in his. She attempted to fight him at first, but found that it was useless. He was a persistent one. Ian made her unclench her fists and place her hands under running water until Jonah arrived with some alcohol swabs and bandages. She thought she might have heard them whisper about how a couple of cuts might leave scars if they didn't get them stitched up quickly.

 _Good,_ she thought. _God knows I deserve them_ _._

As Ian worked quietly on her hands, she took a daring look at her horrified family. Dan had his head in his hands, while Nellie stroked his sandy blonde hair, trying not to cry. Natalie _was_ crying, which shocked her beyond words, and Jonah, Hamilton, and Phoenix were huddled together, drawing upon each other for comfort. Atticus looked uncomfortable, as he, Reagan, and Madison all had traces of pity laced in their eyes, and Jake leaned against a wall, a mixture of concern, confusion, and helplessness present on his handsome face. Fiske looked tired, like he'd seen that scene before, and like he knew he would see it again. Her sobs started to decrease into little whimpers.

"I don't think I can do it anymore, Ian," she whispered. He glanced up immediately, since those were the first words she had directly uttered to anybody. "I'm not cut out for this, I don't think I'm going to last the next time around. And there will _always_ be a next time around."

Just by looking into his eyes, she could see that he was thinking the exact same thing. But he wiped away her tears, and uttered reassurances anyway. Still, she knew that she wasn't like him. Unlike her, Ian Kabra could actually keep his Pandora's box locked and tucked away until he was ready to open it. His demons didn't just surprise him out of the blue, he was too good for that. He kept himself in check, and never let his emotions run his life. He was a good leader. A _better_ leader, really.

She studied his sharp features.

. . . All she had to do was ask.

He looked down at their entwined fingers. She never did say those words out loud, yet somehow, he knew exactly what she needed from him.

So it definitely surprised her when he pulled her to his chest, not caring that she was permanently damaging his clothes with her blood or soaking them with her tears.

"I'll help you," he said quietly, running a hand through her hair as she exhaled in relief. "I _will_ help you."

With that declaration, Ian Kabra sold his soul to the devil, and became a Madrigal leader.

* * *

 _Nine Years Prior_

* * *

While she couldn't wait to start over in a big city like New York with Jake, there was something so uniquely upsetting about leaving one's childhood home. Well, maybe not upsetting, exactly, more like . . . melancholy. Because while starting over meant a new beginning, undamaged by the labors of the past, it also meant letting go of the said past, and that was no easy feat.

She laughed as Dan failed to do a cartwheel over her suitcase in order to "baptize the precious cargo", and nearly keeled over when Natalie, Reagan, Madison, and Nellie all yelled at him to cut it out, and that he was ruining "precious memories".

To her, there was no possible way today's memories could ever be ruined. They were perfectly imperfect, just like her family and friends, and that's just the way she liked them.

"Whoa!" Ian yelled, almost crashing down on the grass with her mini fridge in tow. She hurried over to him to give a helping hand. "Bloody hell, can't you buy this stuff there?"

"Why waste the money? I already have it," she replied.

He rolled his eyes. "Americans."

"Rich people."

"You're _also_ part of the one percent!"

"Just barely!"

Ian laughed. "Only you can think that's an insult."

She stuck her tongue out at him playfully, and he gladly returned the gesture. The two leaned back against the car after loading the heavy item into the back. "So, how is college going to work with our 'duties'?" he asked.

She sighed. It was going to be a difficult balancing act, that was a guarantee, but she was determined to make it possible. This was her one shot and normalcy and she wasn't going to throw it away. "Well, I guess we'll have to split up the work half and half, like always, and try to make the best of it. It's been kind of quiet lately, so I hope that there won't be too much we would have to change in our routine." She paused. "It's been good these last couple of years." _Thank you for making it that way,_ was the obvious undertone of her message. She knew she wouldn't have survived if she hadn't shared her rule of the Cahill clan with Ian. Two heads really were better than one, and sharing the burden might have possibly saved her life.

"It's been good," he agreed, smiling slightly. He turned his head to her and examined her with a look she couldn't really comprehend. "You're going to have a great time at NYU, you know."

She felt something warm stir at the pit of her stomach. "And you at Oxford. All those English girls at your beck and call . . . "

"Jealous?" he teased.

"Incredibly."

He just kept looking at her with those hypnotizing orbs of his. "Amy?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll miss you."

She swallowed nervously. "I-I'll miss you, too, Ian."

She felt the palms of their hands slowly connect, drawn each to each other as if they were magnets. Despite herself, her heart did a little flip at his gentle touch. She knew that she should have broken their subtle yet borderline inappropriate contact, but looking up at his handsome face that was looking down so intensely at her's . . . well, she just couldn't find a single reason to pull away.

 _Beep! Beep!_

"Amy, Jake's here! Are you ready to leave?"

Reason number one.

She swallowed. "We'll keep in touch, okay?"

Ian nodded. "Okay."

 _Okay._

And then she was off.

* * *

 _Six Years Prior_

* * *

"Okay, so explain to me what sane eighteen-year-old cannot drive _himself_ over to the grocery store to get ice cream near the end of a most freezing December, and instead settles on threats, bribery, and temper tantrums for us to go and do it for him?"

She shrugged in response. "Well, Dan's argument was that you have a nicer car."

Ian scoffed. "Exactly! This darling's worth a fortune, and the weather report says that it's going to hail!" He pouted, attempting to sway her by acting childishly himself.

But she just laughed merrily, and pushed him behind the wheel. "Oh, stop being so dramatic, I know you're just _dying_ to catch up with me."

He smirked. "Sure of ourselves, are we?"

"Positive, actually," she replied with a smile, sliding into the passenger seat.

He laughed, a sound that made her grin widen. "Alright, alright, you got me. But first - " He whipped out his phone and started scrolling through the images on the screen rapidly. "Frank Ocean or Donnie Trumpet & The Social Experiment?"

She looked at him in surprise. Seems like Ian Kabra's good taste extended to music as well. "And here I thought you were more of a Beethoven kind of guy."

He rolled his eyes at her dig at him. "Sunday Candy it is then."

She had heard the song before, but never truly appreciated it's artistic arrangement until the day Ian Kabra sang it to her.

Her jaw fell on the floor and she felt as if she was seeing her co-leader for the first time. And my, my, what a sight for sore eyes he was.

" _She can say in her voice, in her way that she love me,"_ he sang, throwing her a wink when saying the last part.

She blushed. "Ian!"

" _With her eyes, with her smile, with her hands, with her money,"_ he continued. " _I am the thesis of her prayers, her nieces and her nephews are just pieces of the layers, only ones she love as much as me are Jesus Christ and Taylor . . . I got a feature, so I'm singing for my grandma_ \- okay, join me on this part!"

She giggled. " _You singing too,"_ they yelled. " _BUT YOUR GRANDMA AIN'T MY GRANDMA!"_

She watched with great amusement as Ian went on freely belting out words about "his grandma" and her superiority. Her smile widened at the content and pure bliss so obviously present in his eyes, and she found herself fiercely hoping that he would show this side of himself more often in the future.

" _You gotta move it slowly, take and eat my body like it's holy,"_ he grabbed her hand and grinned at her. " _I've been waiting for you for the whole week, I've been praying for you, you're my Sun-day can-dy."_

" _You gotta move slowly,"_ she joined in. " _Take and eat my body like it's holy . . . I've been waiting for you for this whole week, I've been praying for you, you're my Sun-day can-dy."_

God, she loved winter break.

* * *

Five Years Prior

* * *

She really shouldn't have expected anything else from him, but when it all came down to it, it was her fault in the end. After all, she was the one who managed to read all the signs wrong. Correction - she paid _attention_ to the signs, which was her first and worst mistake.

Now all she was left with was smudged mascara and a broken heart. Again.

Of course she wasn't _the one!_ How could she have even allowed herself to hope for more when she already had everything she wanted? It was probably just her incessant need for attention that drove her to this. Yeah, that was definitely it. She and Jake were having a bit of a rough time, after all, and Ian's surprise semester abroad in New York just threw her off guard, and allowed her mind to wander to perilous "what if" territory.

"What if" he came for her?

"What if" he cared for her?

"What if" he _loved_ her?

She remembered the last time she went down that road well enough. Somebody ended up dead, so maybe it was best that Ian didn't reciprocate her feelings.

She cringed as she thought back to what she was about to do.

" _Meet me in the garden at nine," she said, with a shy smile. "I have something I need to tell you."_

Well, he sure met somebody in the garden, but it wasn't her.

She quickened her pace towards the mansion, wiping away a stray tear.

How could have she been so stupid! What was it that he had said on one of their last walks together around Central Park?

" _There is this one girl that caught my eye a while ago, still can't get her out of my head."_

And she thought that he was talking about her, that this was his subtle way of confirming all of her suspicions. How self-centered was that? Why was she unable to put two and two together, pick up on years worth of hints, and shared looks, and not-so-accidental touching? It was so _obvious,_ for god's sake, the woman came as his date, after all! So, it shouldn't have come as a shock to find the two mid-makeout five minutes before she was supposed to meet him. Thank god that he didn't see her, she didn't think that she would have been able to handle humiliation on top of disappointment.

"Hey kiddo, I was just looking for you - hey, are you okay, sweetie?"

Nellie. She hastily wiped at her tearstained cheeks, but the bride's jubilant expression was quickly transforming into one of great concern.

"Hey!" she said, trying to sound happy and hoping that her sniffling wouldn't give her away. "Sorry, I was just - just walking around, getting some fresh air - it really is a beautiful wedding, I love what you and Andrew did with the place, everything is just so perfect - "

"Hon - "

"But, um, I actually have to go. Yeah, I re-scheduled my flight, I'm actually going to leave tonight - gotta get back to the city, you know, so many deadlines, plus Jake, I'm so sorry about this - "

"Amy, stop," Nellie commanded, shutting her up immediately. "What's wrong?"

It was like an emotional dam had broke, and she told her friend everything, clutching on to her for support and ugly crying like her life depended on it. She told her about her fights with Jake, and about Ian swooping in at the right time, and about their walks, which turned into lunches, which turned into dinners. She spilled about how nice he was, and funny, and most importantly, _there . . ._ How he made her feel so special, she couldn't help but fall harder and harder every day. And then she told her how she was about to leave Jake for him. How she was going to follow her heart this time, just take a chance and see what happens.

But then she found him in the arms of a certain familiar blonde and that plan turned to dust.

"Oh, Amy," Nellie said as she hugged the crying girl close.

She sniffed. "You can't tell anybody about this, Nell. I feel so guilty for what I almost did to Jake, you have no idea - "

"But you didn't do anything, you didn't cheat - "

"I know, but I feel like I . . . _emotionally cheated,_ if you get what I mean. Just, please, don't tell anybody, I just wanna put this mess behind me."

Nellie sighed, and gave her one last hug. "Call me, girlie, I'm here if you need me."

So, that night she boarded a plane, and went back home. She gave her sleeping boyfriend a kiss on the head, and the next morning, she wrote her long overdue resignation from leadership and a declaration of inactivity as a Cahill agent.

* * *

 _Gasp!_

Amy sat up suddenly in her bed, manically rubbing her eyes forcefully awake. She quickly glanced down at her alarm clock. Five o'clock. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to relax and to dispel the tears threatening to make their way down her cheeks. She was in her room, she was safe, and it was just a dream, probably just triggered by the complete familiarity of her tiring evening.

She hastily wiped at her eyes. No, it was more than that. It was a nightmare, and once upon a time, she had to live through it.

Amy groaned, knowing that there was no way she would be falling back to sleep now.

 _Well, I guess a morning jog could always do me some good,_ she thought to herself. Maybe it would clear up her head, and help her forget all those traitorous memories she had just relived.

One could hope, couldn't they?

* * *

Well . . . shit. SO MANY REVEALS! BUT SO MANY SECRETS! Amy and Ian were Madrigal leaders together! And then the shit hiteth the fan! Hmm . . . well, well, well, where could this go next? TBH, Ian serenading Amy with Sunday Candy is my aesthetic, am I right, or am I right? Btw, I DO NOT own the song, no matter how much I wish I did. Well, yeah, that was a journey. Again, I loved writing this chapter, but what do you think? Let me know, and look out for the next chapter, it's gonna be a fun one!


	10. Chapter 10: The Morning After

Hello, everyone! I hope you are all doing well today. I am really excited to see so many new guest reviews. To all my mysterious friends out there - hello! I hope you are enjoying the story! Anyway, thank you all so much for your encouragement, it has been most enlightening. Mademoiselle, OH MY GOD I AM SO EXCITED FOR RIVERDALE, GURL, I CANNOT WAIT. THE COUNTDOWN IS HERE (lol like it wasn't there since I watched the last episode of Season 1).

*clears throat* Anyway, yes, so last chapter . . . some dream/flashback ish happening there. Yes, some things were resolved, but there is so much more, I promise. Also, yes, this is a slowburn, so I know we wanna know everything, but patience, grasshoppers - all will reveal itself in due course. ;)

Last thing I wanna address on here - I have been made aware of what's been going in this fandom _on this site_ as of late, and I just want to encourage everyone to try and embrace a mature and peaceful path. Let's mend bridges, not burn them. This is supposed to be a safe, creative space _for all -_ if we forget that, we might be in more trouble than we think. All families fight, but there is a very fine line between a simple dispute and war. Let's not head for war, guys, I think we can all agree that there is enough hate, retaliation, and nastiness in the world right now. Let's remember that there are people behind screen names, and while sticks and stones can break your bones, words will psychologically scar you. That's all I will say on the matter, and I hope that everything gets resolved soon.

Without further ado, let's get on with the story!

* * *

 **"What brothers say to tease their sisters has nothing to do with what they really think of them." - Esther M. Friesner**

* * *

Since he was an adult now, Dan knew that it was frowned upon in most respectable societies to spit one's OJ out at the sight of their sweaty, smelly, and horribly out of breath sibling stumbling through the door. But then again, "adult" was such a relative term, and who was he to subscribe to the norm? He coughed, attempting in vain to hide his giggles but Amy - being no fool - threw dagger-like glares his way.

"You're up early," he commented innocently, sipping from the contents of his cup delicately.

"I went on a jog," his sister wheezed as she clutched her midsection in obvious pain.

Dan snorted. "Up Mt. Everest?"

"Do fuck off." She looked around the kitchen with a frown. "Where's Veronica?"

"She not here yet - something about traffic or whatever," he responded, grinning at the mention of his fiancé.

"Oh." Amy sighed while rubbing her temples, and slumped into a chair next to him. "Pass the waffles."

Dan smirked and pulled the food further away from her reach. Amy sent a nasty scowl in his general direction, and he laughed internally, basking in how easy it was to annoy her. "What's the magic word?"

"Now," she growled.

"Close enough." He pushed the meal towards her, and she scarfed it up greedily. "So, how did you like the party?"

"Etthwasssalngkrtmt - "

He rolled his eyes. "In English, please."

Amy wiped the maple syrup off her mouth, and turned to him, sporting an almost convincing poker face. "I said, 'it was alright'."

Dan let out a quiet breath, and shook his head slightly.

 _Sure it was._

It was really too bad that he knew her way too well, or he might have bought her half-hearted attempt at reassuring him. But Amy's eyes were cast downward, her fingers played restlessly with anything in proximity - be it her hair or the silverware - and the furrow in her brow indicated deep thought. She looked . . . unsettled, to say the least. Dan was going to go out on a limb here and guess that the source of her many woes began with "I" and ended with "an".

"Oh, cool," he answered, swallowing a small gulp.

He _knew_ that he shouldn't have hidden _his_ RSVP, and he _knew_ that he should have told her that he was _most definitely_ coming, but honestly, Dan was pretty sure that after that revelation, his sister would have backed out of his wedding for sure, and he couldn't have that. Maybe it was a bit selfish, but he rarely got to see her due to her busy life in New York - and just general refusal to have anything to do with the family - and yes, it was sappy, but he missed her desperately. After all, there were few people as easy to tease and make fun of as Queen Dorkette, and none offered more comedic material than her.

He frowned, poking at his own breakfast bits, and thought back to that certain groomsman of his. Despite his pleas, Amy had refused time and time again to tell him about what happened between her and his newfound British bestie, and even outright denied having any bad blood with him, claiming instead that "they had never _truly_ gotten along, really". But Dan knew that was a lie, hell, anyone with a brain and knowledge of the pair's shared history knew that was a lie. They could all clearly remember a time when the pair got along _very_ well. Whatever happened between them, it must have been something big to make a person like Amy Cahill pack her bags, coldly quit leadership, and drop off the face of the Earth in one night.

Dan could still recall the aftermath of her sudden radio silence, because . . . well, it was pretty hard to forget. Ian would call him nearly every day for _a year_ asking if Dan had any info on why his co-leader had suddenly resigned and why she wouldn't return any of his calls. It was almost sad, really, to see the once mighty Kabra brought down so low, but it did end up having one perk - Dan found out that Ian wasn't as awful to talk to as one would think, and the two actually got along pretty well, despite their many differences. It was a miraculous friendship, cemented by a mutual love of harmless bickering, and Dan wouldn't have liked it any other way.

Amy smiled lightly, bringing him back to reality. "You were great up there, you know . . . Telling about your love to the whole world, it was sweet. I'm proud of you, dweeb."

Dan groaned, and blushed beet red. "I made a fool out of myself."

She laughed. "Only for the first couple of minutes. Nellie, Natalie, and I were very entertained though."

"Oh, I'm sure Natalie was having a ball," he grumbled, thinking back to the girl's knifelike insults. If only _she_ had changed like her sibling, then maybe he could have let go of their longstanding grudge. But no, the Kabra woman seemed determined not to budge and if she wanted to be like that, then fine, he couldn't care less. He frowned, thinking back to a peculiar moment in their conversation. "Speaking of Satan, did she seem a little weird last night?"

"Honestly, yeah, she even left early," Amy said, looking confused and concerned at the same time. "I wonder if she's okay."

"She's fine," Dan reassured. "Maybe the food wasn't up to her incredibly high standards."

"I think it was a bit more serious than that, Dan," Amy said, scolding his insensitivity, but he just rolled his eyes at her.

"Whatever." He scooted his chair closer to her. "Now, onto more important things - "

"Dan!"

"We have to discuss _the brunch,_ " he said, enunciating the last two words ominously.

Amy stopped mid waffle bite. "The what?"

"Brunch! In two days! You know for the groomsmen and bridesmaids?" Amy stared at him like he had sprouted another head, and Dan sighed in frustration. "The next big event? The one that takes place at the restaurant you recommended?"

It was like a lightbulb went off in her head. "Oh! _That_ brunch." She laughed nervously. "Two days, huh? That's so . . . soon." _Tell me about it,_ he thought. Dan had tried to convince Veronica to put this shindig off for later, but she insisted that the sooner the key players of the wedding party were acquainted, the better. Honestly, he didn't think that it even mattered, but he knew she was eager to introduce her friends, so he just let her have her way. She was cute when she was happy, after all.

"There's not too much to be done though, I've already booked us a table and I'm planning to send out the invitation text this afternoon." Dan looked at her pointedly. "And no, you can't sit this one out, you're the maid-of-honor."

Amy groaned loudly in protest, but Dan was having none of it. He knew that she was stressed out, but like it or not, this was her reality for the next five months, and she needed to learn how to live with it. If she couldn't get along with _somebody,_ she would have to learn to at least tolerate him. And hey, who knew, maybe the two would actually _talk_ to each other instead of bottling up those unresolved feelings. But then again, that might be a bit too much to hope for.

"It must be weird," he started. "Seeing them again." Amy looked up at him, an indescribable emotion in her eyes, and cleared her throat.

"Yeah, it is," she confessed, rubbing her neck a little. She chuckled. "I have to say though, some of the wedding party choices did . . . _surprise_ me. I mean, Jonah's so famous, when will he have enough time for this? And Ham - doesn't he have a match coming up soon?"

Dan smirked slightly at her rambling. "Don't you worry yourself, sis. Jonah's not touring right now, and Ham's in the off season. My friend, Abe - you'll meet him at brunch - works for me, so, he's completely free, and Ian . . . Ian does a lot of business with the 'States, he even has an apartment in Boston, which he'll be occupying for the next several months - thank god that his big project falls around the same time as the wedding."

"Big project?" Amy asked, interest evident in her tone. _Hook, line, and sinker._

"Yeah," Dan responded, nonchalantly examining his fingernails. "He's opening his own art gallery."

Amy eyes widened in surprise as she stared at him. "Really?"

"It's supposed to be a pretty big deal," he asserted confidently. "People are already talking about it."

"I'm sure they are," she whispered, looking away. She paused, then said, "I didn't even know you two were even friends though, I mean, by the way you talk about Natalie - "

"Two different species, sister-san," Dan interjected. "One Kabra grew up, the other one just stayed the same."

"I get that." Amy got quiet for a minute. "Hey, Dan?"

"Yeah?"

"This is a bit out of the blue, but . . . why did you decide to get married?"

Dan looked at his sister sharply, but froze under her intense gaze. She looked genuinely curious, and maybe also a little bit sad. He cursed inwardly. It was no secret to him - or anyone, really - that Amy wanted to be in the same position he and Veronica were currently in - to be the blushing bride, all in white, gliding towards Jake at the end of the alter. To have parties, and brunches, and her own personal cheerleaders to be there for her on her big day. But Jake was just taking _so long,_ and nobody understood it, not even Atticus, who had told him that he thought Jake was going to propose years ago. It was infuriating for Dan to watch time go by without a single sign of the elder Rosenbloom popping the question to his sister any time soon.

But Amy didn't ask him about Jake. Dan sighed. Why _did_ he decide to get married? When he was younger, that label met nothing to him, and frankly speaking, he couldn't have cared less is he ever did tie the knot. As far as he was concerned, love had nothing to do with matrimony, and a ring on a girl's finger was just a ring, and it didn't determine anything. But as much as he hated to admit it, adulthood changed things. Many, _many_ things, including his outlook on love, life, and personal growth. In the end, he had found that adult relationships - romantic or not - required seriousness and commitment if they were to ever become something truly great, and when one felt the way he felt about Veronica, there seemed to be only one way forward. Marriage was the answer, he was sure of it. Otherwise, wasn't it all just a waste of time?

Dan knew that he was on the younger side of the marital scale, and that many questioned his judgement to settle down so soon, but he refused to be swayed by their opinions. He had lived a beyond hectic life so far, filled with adventure, danger, and foolish fancies of the heart, and it was time to establish some roots and get grounded. It was time to be seen like a man, and not like a careless little boy he had made himself out to be for so long. And there was no better person to go on that journey with than Veronica. He loved her, and he could see himself eventually straightened out by his commitment to her, and that was what finally persuaded him into matrimony - he could see not only growing old with her, but also growing up.

So, why did he decide to get married?

"We can't all be Peter Pan, Amy. It was time that I became an adult, too."

* * *

Loved writing from this little devil's perspective! Thoughts? What about Dan's view on marriage? . . . Interesting, am I right? Reveals a little bit about his character, and maybe opens up some new questions, too? XD Well, we'll find out more about _that_ later on.

Currently, I do not have any WiFi at my house, so I do not know when I'll update next - I'm mostly working from coffee shops and such. :/ However, do keep a lookout! Next chapter is going to be a . . . well, it's gonna be entertaining. XD Ciao, beauties!


	11. Chapter 11: Early Birds and Worms

Hello everyone! Long time no see! So yeah, I've been kinda busy lately - school and everything. But guys, guess what? Where I live, it's _finally_ starting to feel like fall! XD Ugh, I love fall so much - the holidays, the clothes, the TV and movies. It's just so perfect at fall. What are your guys' favorite things about fall? Is it your favorite season or nah?

So anyway, here is our next chapter! This one was a doozy, but I did try. Also, I speak very limited French (thank you high school for that incredibly inadequate education), so my trusty friend Google Translate helped me out! If anyone that speaks French finds any mistakes, I'm really sorry, I'm just using Google as a helper, please don't be offended. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and tell me what you think!

* * *

 **"The art of conversation is the art of hearing as well as of being heard." - William Hazlitt**

* * *

To call the establishment "nice" would have been more insulting than complimentary because even to the untrained eye, Les Yeux Ambrés was so much more than that. It was the very definition of splendor and grandeur that didn't come off as haughty and unwelcoming, a place with top of the line service that still remained personable, original, and friendly - and that's why Amy loved it so much. It was the only restaurant in all of Massachusetts that had history, heart, and even a semblance of home, and she could safely say that it was one of the very few things she had dearly missed while she was away.

Amy closed her eyes and breathed in the place's rich, flowery smell. Lavender seemed like the scent of the day, but it was somehow made even more delightful by the wonderful aroma of freshly baked bread coming from the kitchens, and the dripping sound of a nearby water fountain. The lobby was full of other guests, all who looked just as marveled by their surroundings and excited for their meal as she was, and the delightful chatter was reaching a volume that seemed to be giving the poor young hostess at the front desk a massive headache.

She smiled as she remembered her first time at the French setup. Grace had taken her and Dan there for lunch when she was just eight to give them a taste of real culture for "educational purposes". She had then proceeded to tell them how she had befriended the owner while traveling abroad, and had tried to persuade her to move to the 'States and open up her own place for years, for her gift just had to be shared. But the owner had no money, and was devastated to turn down Grace's offer. Yet, Grace didn't let that fact sway her - eventually, she convinced the woman to let her be the patroness, and fund the establishment. And even though the owner tried to turn her down again and again, she relented after much begging and pleading from the adventurer. Thus, Amy's safe haven was born.

Though she doubted that Dan even remembered ever dining there, let alone the story behind the restaurant's existence, Amy never forgot. As she grew older, the place became as important to her as it were to her grandmother, and she went there often, either to reminisce on the past, or to think about the future - however uncertain it was.

" _Amélie?"_ Amy grinned widely at the nickname. She turned around slowly and met the big blue eyes of a curly-haired female who was staring at her in surprise and adoration. "Iz zat weally you?"

" _Salut, Marguerite - "_ She didn't have time to finish her poor attempt at speaking French before the owner shrilly screamed and enveloped her in the tightest hug she had ever received. Amy laughed and wrapped her arms around the unusually strong elder. God, she had missed the crazy bat.

" _Mon chérie! Ma belle fille, je t'ai manqué!"_ Marguerite yelled, clinging onto Amy as if her life depended on it. "Iz been too long! When I zaw ze name 'Cahill' in ze book, I thought it waz your brother I should be expecting, not you, zilly girl. Now I have to change ze whole menu!"

"Oh, Marguerite, please don't, I'm sure what you've got planned already will be delicious - "

"Don't be stupid, iz tradition!" Marguerite exclaimed, flipping her long, gray hair over her shoulder like the teenager she was at heart.

Amy rolled her eyes, smiling slightly, but let the woman have her way. When it came to her rituals, nobody could convince Marguerite Beaufort to forego them under any circumstance. To her, traditions were what made life special, and gave one something to look forward to. To take such delicacies away was simply unacceptable in her books. Amy loved the woman even more for her reasoning, however wonky it was.

"Now," Marguerite started, as she linked her arm through Amy's. "Before I take you to your table, tell me all about your life in ze New York, and your better have a good explanation for not viziting me more often!"

"Marguerite, you know I hardly visited anybody," Amy reasoned.

"If you zay zo," said the elderly woman, rolling her eyes in the process. "Though if I believe you, I still haven't decided. Now, enlighten me about ze New York, I've always wanted to go!"

Amy giggled at the woman's over the top hand gestures, and tried to think of the best way to summarize the past five years. She was used to getting asked such questions, but it seemed like every time she had to recount her life story, it got harder and harder to tell. She opened her mouth, preparing to begin, but then heard someone clearing their throat behind her.

The women turned around and were met with the unusual sight of Ian Kabra adjusting his tie, looking every bit as uncomfortable as Amy felt. She cursed him for still looking as handsome and put together as ever, despite having a tension around him that one could only cut through with a sharp, serrated blade.

"Amy," he said, running a hand through his jet-black hair. "There you are. I was beginning to think that I had the wrong establishment."

"Forget about ze New York," Marguerite stage whispered. "Who iz dat?"

Amy felt a heat creep up her neck and she willed herself to calm down. "Marguerite, may I introduce you to Ian, he's my . . . friend."

Marguerite narrowed her eyes as if to say, _okay, I don't believe you, but okay._

"Charmed," Ian said, shaking the older woman's hand politely. He kept glancing back at Amy, making her wonder if there was something on her face. The way her luck was going, it was a definite possibility.

"Marguerite is an old friend of the family's, she actually owns the restaurant, which has such a rich history and - "

"Amélie, stop boring 'im to death, nobody cares!" the woman exclaimed loudly, causing Ian to stifle a laugh. Amy just wish that some God out there would smite her, so she could stop feeling as if she were about to come to a boil. "We're in ze company of an _incredibly_ gorgeous man, and all you can talk about iz my restaurant? 'ave I taught you nothing, _ma fille?"_

"Marguerite!" Amy hissed. She didn't dare look over at Ian, not unless she wished to give a whole new meaning to the word "blush".

"Alright, alright," the insolent woman relented. "I'm only teasing. Now, I'm betting you two 'ave a lot to discuss - "

 _Nope, not really._

"So, I think iz time to take you to your table, no?"

Ian flashed a blinding smile at the owner that would make any woman swoon. Well, _almost_ any woman." _Merci Marguerite, cela serait très apprécié. Et puis-je simplement dire que votre place est extraordinaire, je suis tellement honoré d'avoir été invité à dîner ici."_

Both women raised a brow at his musical phrasing. Marguerite laughed slightly. "Charming, 'andsome, and speaks French? Amy, keep him."

 _That's it._ "Our table, Marguerite?"

"Right, follow me," she giggled, and led them away.

Aside from thinking of the many colorful ways she could strangle the grandma-like figure currently chatting with the source of all her problems, Amy was panicking. Nobody was here yet, and she was about to be stuck attempting to make small talk with Ian fucking Kabra. This was what her nightmares were made of.

She wasn't prepared for this! What was she going to say, how was she going to behave? Does she pretend that Nellie's wedding just never happened? Or maybe that the Lucian just never became her friend? Maybe she should just run away again, and pray that he just wouldn't care enough to follow her.

God, why couldn't the past just stay in the past?

Marguerite led them to a big table all the way in the terrace, which had a beautiful garden view. Despite herself, Amy took in an awed breath when she spotted the many flowers decorating her surroundings - it was almost enough to distract her from her troubles. "Your table, _mes chéris._ What would you like to drink?"

 _Vodka, by the bucket loads._

"Just some water, _s'il vous plaît,_ " Ian answered.

Amy grimaced. "Same for me."

"Alright, I'll be right back!" And then Marguerite was gone, and Amy and Ian were alone at last.

A horrible awkward silence engulfed the two, and Amy prayed to the heavens above that she could find something semi-intelligent to say. Alas, it seemed like the Gods rather liked seeing her so frazzled - it must have been some sort of new form of entertainment for them.

Amy pouted and tried to look at anything but the amber-eyed man before her. This was so ridiculous, she could sue.

 _Where is everybody?_

"So, um . . . " Amy looked up at the sound of Ian's voice. He was fiddling with his napkin, twisting it around like a pretzel, and Amy frowned a little. Could the great Cahill leader actually be . . . nervous? Around her? "I-I've heard that you've done well for yourself in the last couple of years. Not that you've never done well for yourself before! I mean, you're Amy Cahill, of course you've done well for yourself, but what I meant was that you've done _really_ well, which is a whole different level of wellness - lord, where am I going with this - "

Amy's lips twitched upwards a little. Definitely nervous. Maybe she wasn't as alone in this as she had originally thought.

"What I meant to say was that I heard that you were doing well, and that is just wonderful," Ian finally let out, slumping back in his chair and covering his face with his hands. He looked like he didn't know whether he wanted to laugh, cry, die of embarrassment, or all of the above. She could relate.

"This is weird," she admitted after a long pause, scratching the nape of her neck.

Ian scoffed. "Tell me about it. I mean, I haven't seen or heard from you in five years, and then suddenly, you become the bloody ghost of Christmas past, and reappear back into my life out of the blue - I don't know how to react to something like that!"

"Yeah, I get that." Amy swore she heard crickets chirping. _Come on_ _, Zeus, a well-timed lightning bolt isn't too much to ask for._

"I mean, our last form of communication was through your lawyer to finalize your resignation," Ian said quietly. Amy squirmed, not liking this somber turn of their conversation. She could hear the unspoken questions hidden underneath his statement, and it drew a pained expression to her face.

 _Why did you leave me to do that job alone?_

 _Why didn't you return any of my attempts to talk to you?_

 _What did I do to make you hate me so much?_

Amy cringed in shame. None of this was his fault, but he had probably blamed himself for her leaving for a long time. Guilt gnawed at her stomach - she was not a good person. What was she going to do now? She couldn't tell him the truth - god no, that would do more harm than good. But she had to do something.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" That came out worse out loud than it did in her head. Great, now she sounded like the spoiled brat that she was.

"I'm sorry," she tried again. "There were problems at home, and I needed to go back immediately." _So far, so good._ "The job just . . . got in the way, and I felt that it was best to exit the family business as soon as possible, so I'm sorry for not giving you a warning. I just needed time away, so I wasn't really in contact much over the years. Life kind of happened, and then it seemed like I just didn't have any time for any inconveniences."

There were so many holes in her story, but if he knew that she was lying, he didn't show it.

Finally, Ian took a deep breath. "I am _so sorry_ to have been such an _inconvenience_ to you, Amy," he spit out with so much venom, she actually flinched. _Ouch._

Amy looked back down at her lap, willing her eyes not to water. That stung, but if she were truly honest with herself, she deserved that.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, running his hand through his hair again. "That was a bit harsh."

She looked up slowly, but found him sporting a famous and familiar expression she had hoped she'd never see again - the signature _I'm-a-screw-up-who-can't-do-anything-right-by-anyone_ look. It appeared like their brief but heavy conversation had aged him twenty years, and her remorse doubled. Ian had every right to be mad at her, she was the one who left. He didn't purposely mean to hurt her all those years ago - she was unavailable, how was he supposed to know she felt that way? But honestly, _she_ had meant to hurt him back then. And it worked.

Amy stifled a groan. She should have known that her actions would come back to bite her in the ass later on in life. Now she had to fix this - and fast - if she had any hope of getting through the next couple of months unscathed.

She glanced back at the distressed man, who looked like he wanted to poke his eyes out with the salad fork in front of him.

Well, there was no time like the present.

"It's alright," Amy said reassuringly with a small smile. "I understand."

Ian looked at her with a dubious expression, and hesitantly returned her simper.

"Look, I know this mess happened a long time ago, but obviously it's still not resolved," she started. "So, I have a proposition for you - why don't we start over?"

"Start over?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"Yeah," Amy said. "Forget the past, and wipe our slate clean?"

Ian didn't look convinced, but she just grinned shyly at him. "I mean, I know it won't be easy, but we've done it plenty of times before. So how hard could it really be, am I right?"

He chuckled at that, and it encouraged her to go on. She cleared her throat, and stuck out her hand. "Hi, I'm Amy Cahill. I am a dedicated workaholic living the good life in New York, I watch reruns of Kim Possible almost every Friday night, and once upon a time, I had the pleasure of running an insane family alongside a most . . . extraordinary guy."

Ian cracked another smile, and shook her hand tentatively. "It's very nice to meet you, Amy. My name is Ian, Ian Kabra . . . and I think that this could work out just fine."

* * *

And with that, our lovers vowed to forget their shared past, but if we're being honest . . . how long could that last? XD Well, I hope you liked this chapter! Ian and Amy's first talk to each other! I wonder what path that's gonna send those two on. Thoughts on Marguerite? I LOVED writing her, btw, she's such an entertaining character. Anyway, let me know what you think, and look out for the next chapter!


	12. Chapter 12: No Chance, No Way

Oh my god, it has _really_ been a while guys. I am so sorry for not updating sooner, life and school have been hectic, and I had zero time to edit this chapter before today. I have to thank you though, my faithful readers, for still sticking by this story. Be assured that I have not abandoned you, Gold Digger will live on! *cheers and applause* A couple of shoutouts and announcements before we commence though!

First, thank you Grace again for that lovely picture! Absolutely beautiful, I am so honored to have been put in there, thank you so much for being such a good friend and an awesome writer! :)

Etincelle! Thank you so much for your French corrections! Yeah, I barely speak French, and honestly, I based the character and how she talks with an accent on how my French teacher sounded, so I'm sorry if it was an over exaggeration, I was just literally going off of experience and what Google Translate told me. Do you have any recommendations on good English to French translating websites? Thanks so much!

MY LOVELY GUEST READERS! Ah, I love you guys so much! Thank you for giving your input, I am so glad that you are enjoying the story, you guys are so sweet. And if any of you are my 39 Clues MB peeps, hello! Thank you for continuing with this story! Some of you have been there from literal Day 1, and I appreciate you so much, you are such incredible people! Stay golden!

One last announcement - for anyone that's read my one-shot "My Bad", I actually made a gifset thingy on Tumblr for it, starring Karen Gillan as Hope and Sendhil Ramamurthy as Vikram! I just started getting into making those, so it's not advanced or anything (I actually don't even know if it's considered a gifset), but I just thought it was so cute I had to share my accomplishment on this website. XD

Anyway, I'm sure you guys want to see the next installment of this fanfic! So, without further ado, here it is! Enjoy!

* * *

 **"Everything was perfectly healthy and normal here in Denial Land." - Jim Butcher**

* * *

They were talking. To _each other._ Like, they were actually engaged in an exhilarating verbal exchange rather than keeping their half decade streak of frosty silence.

And Ian was on cloud nine.

Before, he could've only _dreamt_ of Amy Cahill asking to start over with him of all people. But seeing her there in front of him, radiant as the sun, and bubbling over with an infectious energy as she loosened up and talked so informally to him about her life . . . he knew that even his wildest fantasies never gave him such joy. This was real, and this was now, and he was one lucky man.

He grinned when she brought up a funny memory from work, her nose scrunching up as she laughed at her past self's antics. God, he had missed this. The talking, the meals, the sharing . . . he had missed it all. And now, little by little, it might have been coming back to him, more glorious and beautiful than ever.

. . . Kind of. Ian stifled a curse.

He was no idiot, after all. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, it was obvious to him that Amy was trying to put on a good show. And it was a lovely spectacle, he'd give her that, but he would never fall for it. Aside from being a Kabra, he simply knew her too well, and the woman still had the same tells. The side eye, the hair tug, the tapping, and even the slight stammer - together they all pointed towards discomfort, and discomfort pointed towards deception.

So, no, Ian didn't believe that nice story about her infamous disappearing act for a second. He didn't think that she was outright lying to him about it either. However, the likelihood of her covering something up - or better yet, leaving something out - was great. Something wasn't right, and while Ian hadn't figured out how he fit into the equation yet, he was a determined fellow - eventually he'd get to the bottom of it, that was a guarantee.

 _Not yet though,_ he thought, watching the green-eyed girl's animated hand gestures flying every which way. For now he would enjoy his companion's pretty smiles and even prettier pretenses. He was happy to play pretend if she was.

"Oh my god, hey guys!"

And the show was over.

 _Shit,_ Ian thought, quietly suppressing a groan at the sound of the awful peppy voice behind them. Just who he wanted to see.

The girl was flanked by a beautiful entourage of three other women - a blonde, a redhead, and a brunette - and all sported charming smiles and colorful day dresses, as if they had just stepped out of a fashion magazine catering specifically to the pretty and perfect. With every step they took, another head turned, taking in their glamour, classical lines, and all-round flawlessness. Even he had to admit that their sort of allure had power, and that in itself warranted a little bit of respect.

Not from him, of course. He hated the leader of Veronica & Co. too much to extend that sort of courtesy.

But as Amy shot out of her chair at an alarming rate, he begrudgingly followed, if only out of politeness. Fuck those etiquette classes he was forced to take as a child, and the imprint they left on him. It was a gift and a curse to be enslaved to manners for one's whole life, he could attest to that.

At least there was one thing that warranted a sigh of relief. Behind the all-female group, Ian could faintly see the outlines of Hamilton talking with Abe something or other, while Dan and Jonah laughed with Marguerite and took in the scenery. He let out a smirk. Thank god the groomsmen of the apocalypse were all there, so he wasn't going to be totally suffocated by the copious amount of estrogen present.

Ian shifted his focus when Amy practically ran to hug Veronica. "Where were you guys? We were starting to worry!"

He tried not to scoff. In reality, he wouldn't be worried if he heard that a bus ran over the brunette. In fact, he'd probably throw a party and sing _"Ding, Dong, the Witch is Dead"_ at the top of his lungs, but he didn't need to let Amy know that - brownie points and all.

Veronica frowned. "Didn't you guys get Dan's text? We pushed our reservation to one!"

From the corner of his eye, he saw Dan try to cover a smug look, and it all clicked together. _Why, that sneaky, little -_

"I was going to tell you, but you looked like you were 'aving so much fun," Marguerite admitted sheepishly. "I didn't want to disturb."

He saw Amy try to contain a blush, and the corners of his mouth lifted a little. He was kind of glad the elderly woman hadn't.

Suddenly, a loud crash came from the foyer, followed by a string of French expletives and a bunch of hasty apologies.

"I'm here! I'm here - sir, _get off_ of me! - I'm here guys, everything's fine!"

Purple hair, leather jacket, and a "that's not very punk of you" t-shirt - not exactly standard bridesmaids material, yet there she was. Veronica's girls looked horrified at the sight of the strange, panting woman, but the Cahills in the crowd just shared a smile. Nellie Maslow had arrived, and now it was really a party.

Ian shook his head in exasperation. It still baffled him that the wheezing, overgrown child in front of him had two kids of her own now. How they were still alive remained a mystery to him, but the husband must have contributed a lot to their welfare.

"Sorry for the lateness, everyone," the former Gomez puffed, brushing aside a stray hair.

"Better five minutes late than a whole hour early," Ian reassured, chuckling at her state. _Not really though._

Nellie smiled. "Touché, England." The woman scanned her surroundings and whistled. "God, I'm starved, and this place looks nice with a capital 'N', am I right?"

"She looks like a mess with a capital 'M', am I right?"

Ian turned his head sharply and found two thirds of the Evil Entourage giggling stupidly in the corner.

"What is she wearing?" the blonde hissed. "I mean, this is a classy establishment, like, oh my god, make an effort."

The dark-haired girl snickered. "I know, right?"

"Right."

 _Wrong._

His first instinct was to tell the two to go stuff their unwarranted opinions where the sun didn't shine - nobody insulted his family's fashion choices except him and Natalie. But he kept his mouth shut and instead settled on rolling his eyes and scowling. Too bad that their behavior didn't exactly surprise him - birds of a feather flock together, after all.

Speaking of Head Vulture . . .

"Why don't we get settled in?" Veronica suggested, taking a seat not too far away from him. "And then we can start discussing business when everyone's mingled a little."

"That sounds like great idea, V," Jonah agreed as he glanced around at the large group of faces before him. "I wouldn't mind catching up with some of my peeps here - it's been a while, amiright?"

"Great!" the bride-to-be squealed, clapping her hands in excitement. "Let's have fun everyone!"

 _Not bloody likely._

Her eyes met Ian's and he swore that those infamous blue orbs turned black for a second. But then she looked away, and the moment had passed - she was back to being her fake self again, all bubbly and smiley.

Ian had to give the girl some credit - she was good. That darling facade had once managed to fool him too, so he could see the basis of its appeal. However, he did wonder how long it would be until her charade fell apart this time around. Because he desperately wanted to be front and center to see that mask shatter. It would be his own personal form of revenge, but not just for him - for Natalie. Always for Natalie. After what that wench did to that poor girl . . . well, Ms. O'Malley deserved whatever wicked thing came her way. It was just so bothersome and guilt-inducing that he couldn't tell Dan more about who he was about to walk down the aisle with. Damn his promise. And that horrid contract.

Oh well. Ian would just have to settle on making the witch squirm for as long as possible. In the end, she might be spilling all those juicy secrets herself.

"So, had a fun time checking out my sister?" Ian groaned as he felt the shadow of a man slide in beside him. "Watch it, man, she still has a boyfriend."

"Dan," he acknowledged with a small smile.

The blond nodded to him mock-seriously. "Bestie."

"You never sent that text, did you?" Ian asked despite already knowing the answer.

"Nope." The Cahill man turned his head towards the Brit and grinned. "You're welcome."

"If you're under some delusion that I'm actually _grateful_ for your impertinence - "

"Oh, cut it out!" Dan scolded, slugging Ian in the arm. "You have _the glow_ around you again and everyone knows you only get it after a good time with one _particular_ person."

"That is such a lie, I won't even dignify it with a response," he sneered in return.

"Okay," Dan said, raising his hands to show that he was backing off. Or so it seemed. "Hey Ham, on a scale of one to ten, how radiant does King Cobra look today?"

The Holt smirked, and threw a heavy arm around the Kabra's shoulders. "You're gonna need a bigger scale, Dan. Hour well spent, Ian?"

"Do shut up, both of you."

The men just laughed heartily at his put out expression, causing Ian to dramatically roll his eyes. Must everything be a joke to those two buffoons?

"Okay, but seriously," Dan said, suddenly taking on a more somber tone. "You two seemed like you were actually having a good time."

Ian gulped. That statement sounded a lot more like an accusation than an observation. He knew exactly what the Cahill was getting at.

"Yeah, if you don't mind me saying, that kind of looked like the good old days," Hamilton chimed in. "Amy and Ian, Madrigal leaders - "

"We were just talking," Ian interrupted, hastily defending his actions.

Dan just snorted in disbelief. "Oh, is that what the kids call it these days?" Silence. "We're not going back down that toxic road, are we, Ian?"

 _Are we?_

He took that moment to glance back at his former co-leader. She was currently joking with Nellie on the other side of the table, laughing daintily and sipping from her water glass. Her green eyes were so alive, complementing her delicate features ever so nicely. But it wasn't her good looks that had his attention this time. With every smile and giggle, Amy gave off such a warm energy, that it seemed to wrap everyone around her in a welcoming blanket, making it nearly impossible to want to leave. He understood the feeling well, having been in that situation countless of times himself. But in the end, the blanket always got ripped away. And the cold was quite unbearable.

Ian thought hard. With their history . . . would it even be possible? Could he still enjoy her warmth, but not get completely dependent on it?

Could they genuinely be "just friends"? Or should they "just quit" while they're ahead?

He heard her laugh again, and realized that there was never really a decision to make.

 _It won't be exactly like it was bef_ ore, he argued. This time he'd exercise more self-control - keep himself in check.

It would work, their re-found friendship. It would work so well, that when it was time for him to let her go, he would do it easily. And this time she wouldn't leave without saying goodbye.

That did sound like a plan.

Ian turned to Dan and smirked.

"Don't be absurd," he said, finally answering the Cahill's query. "There's no 'toxic road' this time."

* * *

"Okay, spill."

Amy rolled her eyes at her friend's demanding dramatics, and scooped some more salad onto her plate. "Honestly, Nell, there's really nothing to say."

The mother of two scoffed and crossed her arms. "Oh, yeah, right. There is absolutely 'nothing to say' about the fact that you just spent an hour with Ian Kabra _alone._ How could I ever think _that_ could be cause for concern?"

Amy sighed. She could see where Nellie was coming from. After all, meeting Ian for lunch hasn't been a common occurrence for a very long time, and by all means, she understood why that very thing triggered all kinds of red flags. But today had been surprising, and funnily enough, easy. Sure it had it's fair share of awkward silences and stupid rambling, but it was also all very familiar and actually quite tolerable. Maybe it wasn't exactly like it was before - and maybe that was a good thing - however, at least now she wasn't dreading the thought of being in the same places as him for the next five months. That was progress in its own right.

"Okay, fine. If you must know, we were perfectly civil. And yes, it was extremely weird at first, but then we - we got over it." Amy paused, wondering if she should tell her former au pair the next part. "I may have . . . _stretched_ the truth a little bit about why I left."

The brunette beside her laughed mirthlessly. "Well, that's a given. I mean, you couldn't just tell the man that the reason behind your vanishing act was because you saw him and - "

" _Ahem."_

Nellie looked at her sheepishly. "Oh, sorry."

Sorry indeed. If there was one thing Amy didn't need getting out, it was her little spying venture five years ago. She could already imagine the horror of that aftermath.

"I'm curious though," her companion continued. "What do you mean by 'we got over it'?"

Amy smiled triumphantly. "We've come to the agreement that it's best if we start over. A clean slate, a new beginning!"

Nellie narrowed her eyes. "Start over?"

"Yup."

The older woman didn't look convinced. "Um, okay, but have you noticed that every time you and Ian 'start over' like this, you manage to repeat exactly everything that you've done wrong before?"

Amy frowned at her reaction. "Well, it's not going to be like that anymore."

"Really?"

"Really."

Nellie just shook her head, and went back to her food. "This can only end in tears."

Amy massaged her temples, and closed her eyes. Yes, Nellie's lack of faith was justified, after all, what she said was true - she and Ian did have a nasty habit of going full circle, and then having all of their less than stellar choices blow up in their faces. But still, he friend's discouragement did hurt.

Bad habits could be broken, right? She and Ian could totally do things differently this time if they just put their minds to it. Amy was determined, and she was confident that since the both of them were now older and wiser, they could handle this friendship with maturity and care. Today was going well, and if that was any inclination to their shared future, then everything was going to be alright.

"I think he and I will be friends again," she stated boldly.

"Oh, I'm sure you will," the former au pair reassured. "I just worry that you two won't be able to stop 'friends' from becoming 'friendlier'."

"Don't be ludicrous!" Amy exclaimed indignantly. "Men and women _can_ be just friends, you know."

"Of course they can. But you and Ian can't." Nellie sighed, and put down her fork. "I'm sorry for the doubt and bad vibes, Ames. I just don't want this wedding to end up like the last one we were both at."

Amy cringed at the painful memory. "I know."

Nellie reached out and squeezed her hand. "Why don't we change the subject? Oh, I know! Let's talk about the airhead sandwich crowding poor Veronica over there."

The Cahill let out an exasperated laugh. "Yeah, sure, why not."

If she talked about that, then at least she wouldn't have to think about what the hell she had just gotten herself into with the amber-eyed man sitting across from her for a little while longer.

* * *

Ta-da! Well, well, well, some new developments! By the way, the title of this chapter came from the song "I Won't Say I'm in Love" from Hercules - the ultimate "I'm in denial" song. Thoughts on Amy and Ian? Ian literally melting over Amy at the beginning of the chapter . . . EEK! So fun to write! This mystery with Veronica and the Kabras . . . where is it all leading to? Well, I know *cackles* but what do YOU think? What about those two bridesmaids? Dan, Ham, and Nellie? Do you think Nellie's right? There's no possible way for Ian and Amy to "just" be friends? Or can our favorite duo prove her wrong? Well, I guess only time will tell!

I'm hoping to update by next weekend, however, I can't make any promises. :( But I will definitely try! Until next time, darlings!


	13. Chapter 13: A Heart of Gold

OH MY GOD, SHE LIIIIIIIVVVVEEEEESSSSS! Hello again, babies, I am back with an enormously overdue new chapter of Gold Digger! *cheers and applause* Yes, I know, it's literally been forever since I've updated this story and I have about a billion excuses, but my main one was that I really wanted to make this chapter worth reading. I've been so #blocked with this story, it's not even funny, but thankfully, I finally got some inspiration. On another note, how cool is it that we're getting some new people in the fandom? I'm so excited to see this place coming to life again! Also, the Gift Exchange - everyone should totally do that, it sounds so fun!

I know some of you have asked for a re-cap, so I'm going to deliver on that!

 _Previously on Gold Digger . . ._

After years of not talking to one another, Amy and Ian finally decide to give their friendship another chance! Will it last, or is it bound to go down in flames? Dan, Nellie, and Hamilton are all very skeptical of this new development, but are trying to be supportive - some more than others. Meanwhile, 2/3 of Veronica's squad are doing their best to have people lose faith in humanity with their immaturity - will it work (probably)?

Well, I hope you enjoy this next chapter, and I cannot wait to hear back from you all!

* * *

 **"To err is human, to forgive, divine." - Alexander Pope**

* * *

If there was one thing Nellie Maslow née Gomez hated more than awkward wedding party brunches, it was awkward wedding party brunches _with ice breakers._

And no, not the "Cahill" ice breakers that she was used to - where she would actually have a chunk of ice to break over two certain gossiping bridesmaid's heads - but the ones that consisted of _somebody_ suggesting, "Oh my god, let's totally go around in a circle, say our names and some useless facts about us even though literally nobody cares! It'll be just like high school, except funner!"

The caterer flinched, thinking back to the exact moment Veronica proposed such an atrocity. She loved the girl, but come on, did people really need to hear about how Hamilton Holt "ran fast" or that Jonah Wizard "liked cheese"?

No.

No, they didn't.

 _Kill me now,_ she thought as the brunette bridesmaid of Ms. O'Malley's Golden Trio stood up and introduced herself as Keira Martinez, a _predictably_ ordinary, single girl who loved your two most _predictable_ standard basic bitch things - relaxing walks on the beach and cute puppies. Nellie wondered, what would happen if the young woman took a relaxing walk on the beach _with_ cute puppies? Would her teeny tiny brain just spontaneously combust, or maybe even implode from such an impossibility occurring?

One could only hope.

"Oh, is it my turn now?" giggled the blonde beside Keira, causing Nellie to roll her eyes.

Of course. Now that Dumb had her shining moment, it was Dumber's turn in the spotlight. God bless them all.

She really couldn't understand it - how could such a nice girl like Veronica have the most awful friends? And close ones, at that! It made no sense that a woman who went out of her way to be pleasant and hospitable to everyone associated with people who made fun of or isolated anyone just because they happened to be different from themselves.

Nellie frowned, thinking back to the nasty overheard comments from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Bitch. She had dealt with people like Keira and Blondie her whole life - so-called "perfect people" who would never shy away from handing out disapproving glares and hushed insults like they were on Oprah Winfrey's morning show - so really, she should've been used to it by now. And yet, such slander still stung a bit, no matter how immature it was.

Honestly, "mess with a capital M"? What were they, in pre-school?

". . . And I love flowers, and chocolates, and travel . . ."

 _Maybe._

"What's this chick's name?" Nellie whispered to Amy who with her glazed eyes and tired expression, looked as if she were about to fall asleep.

"Ashley. Ashley Farwell," the redhead sighed as the blonde kept listing more things she just absolutely adores.

"Jesus," the former au pair muttered. "Ashley Farwell sure takes this exercise . . . well, _far_."

That comment earned her a smack on the arm from her former charge.

". . . And swimming, and shopping, and finally - " _Oh, thank god._ "Um, dark-haired men with warm, striking eyes."

Nellie stifled a snort.

"Subtle much?" she muttered, watching as Ashley shuffled in her seat and batted her eyelashes flirtatiously at Ian. The aforementioned man then proceeded to attempt and fail to pass a grimace off as a smile. "Aw. Wee poor, sacrificial lamb."

"Nellie!" Amy hissed.

"What? It's true!"

The Cahill woman just rolled her eyes, and shifted her focus to the next victim of the "fun" game, Abe Donoghue. She looked as nonchalant as ever, yet Nellie noticed how her green eyes kept darting back towards Ashley, who was still ravenously sizing Ian up as though he were a steak dinner and she hadn't eaten for weeks.

Even though it pained her to do it, Nellie chose to pretend that she hadn't seen her ex-ward's prying glances.

Amy was a big girl, after all. She had witnessed and prevented unthinkable horrors, been present for some of the most world-changing events, and had led an absolutely psychotic family down the path of righteousness for years without expecting anything in return. She was a living legend - an unsung hero! - celebrated by her friends and feared by her foes, and deserving of only the highest praise. Amy Cahill could take care of herself - she _understood_ what she was doing. And Nellie had to believe that.

Still, call it "maternal instinct" or whatever, but all the former au pair wanted to do was to grab the unsuspecting female, haul her ass to the airport, and put her on a one-way flight to New York City with the firm order to not return until Ian Kabra's untimely demise.

Don't get her wrong. _Of course_ she was glad that her kiddo was _finally_ participating in family events again. And _of course_ she had made her peace with the male Cahill leader a long time ago, and didn't blame him _at all_ for "the unfortunate incident" - he was totally her bud now! However, if she ever had a chance to "accidentally" push said leader off a cliff in order to spare her adoptive baby future heartache . . . well, truth be told, she wouldn't even hesitate.

Nellie wasn't stupid. Ian plus Amy equaled disaster, and the last thing she wanted was sweet, sweet Amelia walking away from another wedding in tears. This whole "starting over" idea reeked of utter bullshit from both parties involved. Sure, it was a nice concept, and maybe for two different people, everything would turn out fine. But sadly, that wasn't how it was. Amy and Ian had too much history together, history that was impossible to forget. They couldn't just turn back the clock, and pretend that everything was alright. They had to either move forward or sever their connection completely. That was the only way either one of them would get out of this thing with a semblance of sanity still intact.

Nellie huffed quietly. It was really too bad that she couldn't say all that out loud. Despite her other genteel qualities, Amy was as stubborn as a mule, and would never listen to reason - especially when that reason concerned a toxic mix of feelings and a certain Kabra male.

 _But maybe I'm wrong,_ Nellie thought to herself, peering over at the helpless Lucian unsuccessfully dodging now Ashley's _and_ Keira's advances. _God, I hope that I'm wrong. Ugh, where is Jake Rosenbloom when you need him?_

If he were here, things would have definitely been different.

 _Speaking of Rosenbloom . . ._

"Hey, where is Atticus?" Nellie asked. "Isn't he like, the best man?"

"Couldn't make it," Amy whispered back, eyes never leaving the the new speaker, Emma Stafford. "Something about work coming up. Made Dan a bit bummed."

"Oh. That sucks," the brunette replied. Pause. "So, do you miss Jake?"

"Nellie, now's hardly the time!" Amy scolded, causing the older woman to roll her eyes again.

Another pause.

"Yes. Yes, I do," she finally responded quietly, and Nellie smiled. _Good._ "He's mentioned coming down here in a bit. When work lets up, of course."

"That's great!"

"Yeah, it is," Amy replied, sighing wistfully. "We haven't set a date yet, but hopefully it'll be soon."

"Yeah," she agreed, glancing at the Kabra in the corner of her eye. "Hopefully."

 _The sooner, the better._

* * *

"You're tensing up again," came the hushed voice of her fiancé and immediately a grin crept up Veronica's face.

"I think your family hates me," she muttered quietly, casting her blue eyes towards a full plate on the pristinely set table.

Dan scoffed. "Impossible. Where would you get an idea like that?"

 _I wish I could tell you._

"Nowhere," she said to him instead, laughing lightly. "Nevermind - don't worry about it. I'm just being stupid."

Veronica O'Malley had been pretty damn fortunate in her life so far. Beautiful, well-educated, and with an addictive personality to boot, many of her friends and family considered her to be the luckiest living person to ever walk the Earth. Just look at where she was right now, at only twenty-four years of age - sitting at a five-star restaurant, with her incredibly handsome and wealthy fiancé, discussing her upcoming nuptials. Every girl's dream, right?

She just had it all.

Well, on the surface, at least.

She searched the chatting crowd for his face, but didn't see it anywhere. Quickly saying a quiet prayer for her soul, she swallowed a gulp. It was a miracle that he hadn't killed her yet for what she had done, but Veronica was positive that the event was definitely on his agenda.

The last time she saw him . . . the last time she saw _them_ . . .

Well, the phrase "it didn't end well" didn't do that encounter justice.

As agreed upon by both of their lawyers, Veronica and the Kabra siblings were never supposed to contact one another again - not that they'd want to, per se. However, what _wasn't_ agreed upon by their lawyers was what the hell they were supposed to do if by some small chance fate intervened, and she was to join a family that said siblings were both strongly present in.

Veronica took a big swig of her drink. Oh, she was screwed. She was so screwed, it wasn't even funny. This was her big chance to start over, and there she was, same old scene. Caught up in the same game with the Kabras on one side and the boy she loved on the other. What a cruel repetition.

If she were honest with herself, she'd just admit that she blew it a long time ago. That she completely demolished her chance at a new beginning the moment she decided to rip lives apart in order to satisfy her own self-interest, and now there was nowhere to run from a past that just refused to stay buried. But such stupidity was nearly impossible to own up to, or be honest about. She was at a dead end.

Veronica turned to observe Dan talking animatedly with Emma. His eyes were alight with so much happiness as he roared in laughter at something her bridesmaid said, and it brought a delicate smile to the bride-to-be's face.

And then that smile dropped with her next thought.

What will he think of her when he inevitably finds out the truth? When she - or her victims - inevitably _tell_ him the truth? Veronica could imagine how that conversation would go.

" _Dan, have I ever told you about the time that I set out to ruin one of your best friend's lives? Oh, and you should have seen what I did to his sister - it puts Hitler to shame!"_

"Seriously V, are you sure you're okay?" Dan said, breaking Veronica out of her trance. "You're looking kind of pale."

The brunette cleared her throat as Dan gazed on at her with great concern. "You know what, I don't think this food - however delicious it is - is agreeing with me. I'm just going to go get some fresh air."

Dan scrunched up his eyebrows. "But we're outside . . ."

 _Shit._

"I'm going to get some fresh air _inside,_ 'cause you know, it's . . . different air, and different can be good."

 _Smooth._

"Plus, I need to go freshen up in the ladies room anyway," she added. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon!"

"Okay," he replied uncertainly. "I'll be waiting, I guess."

 _Good job, Veronica, now your fiancé thinks you're a psycho,_ she berated herself as she practically ran towards the bathrooms. _Why are you such an idio - o_ _of!_

. . . And as the saying goes; what can go wrong, will go wrong. And practically running into Ian Kabra's back in an empty hallway was most definitely wrong.

Murphy's law was a real bitch.

It seemed to her that he had been hoping that it was someone - anyone - else, for the moment he laid eyes on Veronica he gave her his famous "your end is nigh" look, and in that moment, she remembered what it was like to feel real terror again.

The rational thing would have been to let Ian pass her, and go on her merry way. But then again, Veronica had passed rational a couple of years back.

"I'm sorry for everything," she blurted out of nowhere. She had no idea as to why that was the first phrase to come out of her mouth, but there was no taking it back now.

Ian just stared at her, a beyond furious gleam in his amber eyes. "What the bloody fuck do you want me to say to that?"

"Well, honestly, 'I forgive you' would be nice," she responded semi-jokingly. He was not amused. "How's Natalie?"

"Be careful, Vera," he growled out. "You're treading on very thin ice here."

Veronica gulped. She was pushing him, which in general is a dumb move - everyone knew that Ian Kabra pushed back harder. "Okay. Okay, I get it. Let's just calm down." She sighed. "Look, I wasn't seeking you out or anything, but now that you're here, I should just say it - "

"Sticks and stones?" He raised an eyebrow. "We should 'move on'? Get to know each other as not who we were, but as who we've become?"

"N-no, that's not - "

"How can you live with yourself?" the handsome man hissed, taking a step towards the frightened brunette.

She felt her eyes beginning to well up. "Ian, please - "

"How do you wake up every morning with the knowledge that you're nothing but a greedy hypocrite and a liar?" Ian yelled.

 _Ouch._

The tears were freely flowing down her cheeks now, but she couldn't care less. "I know I hurt you, but you don't get it! I had no money, and I was foolish and desperate - "

"Are you _still_ foolish and desperate?" he questioned, and if it was even possible, the room temperature seemed to immediately drop twenty degrees.

"What?"

"How desperate are you for your gold, Veronica?" the British man asked, circling her like a vulture. "Desperate enough . . . to marry a rich boy?"

Now it was her turn to be pissed off. She wiped at her face. "Don't you dare."

Ian smirked viciously. "Save your crocodile tears, I know you're not above such methods."

Veronica held her head up higher. "I am _not_ that person anymore."

He just chuckled humorlessly in response, and began walking away from her.

"I'm going to tell him the truth!" she called after him.

That stopped him in his tracks.

"Your life depends on it, Veronica."

And with that warning, she felt her heart stop. If anyone else would have listened in, it would have been clear to them that he wasn't fucking around - Ian meant every word, and she wasn't stupid enough to think that he wouldn't follow through.

Nevertheless, Veronica semi-bravely raised a polished brow and sputtered out, "Is that a threat?"

Ian let out a sinister grin and stepped closer to her trembling form. "No, this is.

"If you so much as breathe the wrong way and one of the Cahill siblings doesn't like it, there is no corner of the world that you would be able to escape to. No contract, no government, no law will be able to protect you from what I will make my life mission to have you experience. So, _darling,_ stay in line and do not even think of toying with the emotions of the people I love again, or the only beings you will be answering to are me and your maker. Do we understand each other?"

 _Silence._

"Do we understand each other?" he repeated heatedly, glaring down at her cowering frame.

"Y-yes!"

Letting out a self-satisfied smirk, Ian finally took a couple of steps way from her. "Good. Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get back to the table now - my family will be wondering where I am."

Veronica watched him strut away from her until his physique was no longer in view, and then she ran. She ran like there was no tomorrow - because according to Ian Kabra, there might not be - through the hallways and the maze of tables, and into one of the bathroom stalls, where she proceeded to throw up the contents of her breakfast and meager lunch into the toilet bowl.

He threatened her.

He _actually_ threatened her.

And he wasn't bluffing in the slightest.

Veronica hiccuped as more tears ran down her face.

Her fate was decided. She was going to lose _everything._

Again.

* * *

SUSPENSSSSEEEEEEEE. So, what do you think? Any favorite lines? Is Nellie right to be worried about Amy and Ian? How about Veronica? Now, that you've gotten to know her a little bit better, has your opinion of her changed or stayed the same? Was Ian a bit too harsh, or was his anger warranted? And finally, what do you think happened between them? Who is "Vera" to Ian, really? I want to hear your theories!

Honestly, I have no idea when I'm going to update next. Hopefully soon, but the more likely option is winter break. :(( However, I am going to try my best to have the next chapter in sooner rather than later! Until next time, friends!


	14. Chapter 14: Lie to Me

WELL, IT'S DEFINITELY BEEN A MINUTE. But yeah, for those who were wondering . . . I'm not dead. Just busy, really. A lot has been happening in my life, and unfortunately, it caused me to put this story on the back burner, putting it into a dreadful coma-like hiatus. However, in honor of Prince Harry's and Ms. Markle's nuptials, I am happy to be back and posting a new chapter to this wedding centered story! It took me a while to write this chapter, since I wanted it to be ready and awesome enough for everyone to see (and that definitely took a while). I especially wanted to focus this section of the story developing our characters, and making them more round and relatable. So I hope I achieved that (or at least come close to it XD).

Anyway, I think it's fair that all of you at least get a catch up sesh on what's been happening here in the story! Here we go, y'all!

 _Previously on Gold Digger . . ._

As the bridesmaids and groomsmen brunch continues, Nellie worries for Amy being sucked back into the all consuming "In Love With Ian" club that had caused her so much pain in the past. Is she right to have anxiety about this? We'll have to wait to find out! Meanwhile, Veronica has a nasty run in with Ian in which she receives a very explicit threat detailing her potential demise if she even thinks of repeating the past again. Will she live long enough to say "I do"? Or will her dangerous secret ruin everything? Read on to see!

I hope that you enjoy the chapter and I can't wait to hear back from you soon!

* * *

 **"Oh, what a tangled web we weave . . . when first we practice to deceive." - Walter Scott**

* * *

"I've said this a billion times before, but I guess one more wouldn't hurt anyone - what an actual bitch!"

Though it was universally acknowledged that Natalie Kabra's temper only influenced her _creativity_ with the English language, what most didn't know was that it also completely got rid of her volume control as well. Ian cringed as his sister's staticky - but well deserved - expletives rang like shots from his cell through his eardrum. If she kept at this, he was sure that he soon wouldn't even need a phone to hear her screeching all the way from England.

"'I'm sorry for everything'?" said the girl, mocking Veronica's pitchy tone of voice. "Who _the fuck_ does she think she is?"

The young man sighed as he continued his stride down the busy Boston streets. What possessed him to call Natalie and give her a re-cap of his absolutely bizarre day, he knew not. Maybe it was the heated confrontation, or the creepy bridesmaids, or . . . well, _her._ He couldn't really comprehend. All that was really known to him was that he needed to vent, desperately. And truth was that nobody could understand this string of peculiar predicaments better than his closest family member. Maybe it was a little bit selfish of him to talk about this inevitable disaster of a wedding with the person who's been the most hurt and humiliated by the bride-to-be. But on the other hand, maybe keeping Natalie in the loop was better than having her wonder what the hell was going on across the sea without her.

"You know, I could find a thousand shitty things to say about her off the top of my head - "

"Oh, I don't doubt it - "

" - But you've really got to admire her gall," the younger Kabra continued. "'How's Natalie?' Like she doesn't fucking know, that fake slut."

Ian heard her take a frustrated inhale. "Stupid cow ruins my life, walks free, and now she's about to get everything she ever wanted. How is that fair?"

"It's not," Ian grumbled in response. "It's just life."

Natalie scoffed. "Bullshit. It's karma."

Probably true. They had a lot of bad juju to work off.

"What are we going to do?" he heard his sibling whisper.

"I don't think there's anything we can do," Ian answered disheartenedly.

He could feel Natalie's agitation growing from the other line. "But - and I cannot believe I'm saying this - but what about Daniel? I know I'm not the wanker's biggest fan, but doesn't he have the right to know what kind of person he's about to marry before making the biggest commitment of his life? Maybe if we - "

"No."

"But - "

" _No."_

Natalie huffed. "Ian, be reasonable - "

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do," he argued back, wishing she could just see how much of a strain this topic was already putting on him. After all, it's not like he enjoyed projecting a happy yet duplicitous facade to his friends and family. It's not like he actually liked pretending that everything was going to be okay, even though by the looks of it, that clearly wasn't going to be the case. But it had to be done, and contrary to popular belief, not just to save his own skin this time. Dragging a hand across his weary face, he continued, "Natalie, we signed a non-disclosure agreement."

"I know you don't really care about that," the Kabra female countered.

"You're right," Ian boldly stated. "But I do really care about you."

There was silence on the other line.

"It's not just about the money, or the reputation. I know you know that," he said softly. "It was a tragedy, what happened all those years ago. For all of us, but especially for you. I'm not going to make you relive that over and over again, and then get punished for doing so. You don't owe anyone anything - let Vera own up to this one and finally face the consequences she consistently managed to escape. She would deserve what would come her way. You wouldn't."

He could hear some vague sniffling. "You don't always have to play 'protector' with me, you know."

Ian let out a long breath. "I'm your big brother. Of course I do."

There was a slight pause before Natalie asked, "Do you think she'll actually tell them the truth? It's not like she's always been the model of honesty in the past."

He wanted to say something reassuring, something that could give his undoubtedly stressed out sibling - and himself - a semblance of comfort. But unfortunately, nothing true came to mind.

"I don't know," the man finally admitted with defeat. "I honestly have no idea."

"Yeah, I thought you might say that," Natalie sighed. There was a brief pause before she said something that made his insides twist in incredibly unpleasant discomfort. "I just can't believe we're lying to them again - and on this scale, no less."

"Believe me, it's not like I want to," Ian muttered, speeding up his stride.

 _It's just the only way to protect you._

"Oh, I bet," she teased, laughing lightly. "I mean, with all the good, new developments on the Amy frontier and all."

Letting out a loud groan, he immediately regretted touching upon that delicate subject with the youngest Kabra earlier, for now he knew that he would never be hearing the end of it. Why, oh why did his mouth have to speak before his brain had time to think - it's like he adored self-sabotage or something.

"Change the subject, Natalie."

"But I am, dear brother," she said as innocently as a totally guilty person could. "And quite honestly, this is a much more riveting topic of discussion. So, do tell. How in love with her are you already, only twenty-four hours after 'starting over'?"

Ian gulped down that warm, pleasant feeling he didn't yet have a name for building up in his throat, and adjusted his tie cordially. "Don't be ridiculous. We're just friends."

Natalie snickered. "Wow, you can't honestly be stupid enough to believe that could ever be possible."

"Oi!"

"Oh, please. Don't act so shocked," she scolded, and he could practically feel her dramatically rolling those brown eyes at him. "Just tell me what the game plan is, and I'll do my best to help."

Since Natalie never made her feelings on his and Amy's hypothetical courtship a secret, he knew that she would, of course. Probably by finding an assassin to kill off Jake, but it's the thought that counted, really. And it would have been a tempting offer to take, but Ian knew that it wasn't a really practical option.

Otherwise he would have done it himself years ago.

Nonetheless, he had to break it to her in some way. "There is no game plan."

". . . I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

"Ian, must I break it down for you," Natalie growled in frustration. "You and Amy get along. You and Amy get along _really_ well. But then Amy leaves out of the blue and doesn't talk to you for years. Now, cut to present day, a messed up window of opportunity presents itself in the form of a deluded friendship that could obviously lead to so much more. And you're just going to pass that up?"

He thought quietly for a second. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"B-b-but," the woman stuttered in confusion. "But why?"

Ian laughed humorlessly. "Well, for one, she has a boyfriend - "

"Like that's ever stopped you before - "

"And two," he cut in sharply, and with a glare at the nearest staring pedestrian. "It's . . . it's just not worth it. It's not worth going through the whole mess that is the romantic pursuit of Amy Cahill when you already know that it would never work out in the end. It's always been a dead end chase, and you know it. Everyone does. That's why this clean slate - this 'fresh start' idea - isn't just good, it's bloody fantastic. It's a chance for the both of us to start over with a platonic take on an old tale. And maybe this time around . . . everything actually works out between us for once. I want her in my life, Natalie, but that's the extent of it. Trust me, it's better this way."

 _Silence._

"What a load of horsesh - "

"Okay, good chat, sister dear! But sadly, I've got to go now," he interrupted.

"Oh, no you don't - "

"Bye, talk to you later! Much love!"

 _Click._

Putting away his phone, Ian finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. Honestly, conversations with his younger sibling could unhinge a Buddhist monk.

And yet . . . They _did_ offer a sort of deluded perspective . . .

The Englishman frowned and shook his head, as if trying to clear the doubts from it. No. Absolutely not. He had made up his mind, and he was going to stick to his decision no matter what. Perspective was greatly overrated anyway. And he had more pressing problems to deal with at the moment.

"Mr. Kabra, you're _finally_ here!"

 _Speaking of . . ._

Ian let out a tired, bemused smile. "Tommy Boy! How goes it, mate?"

Standing in front of a bustling construction site, Thomas Lang - wearing an impeccably chic blue Armani suit that only served to accent the blinding shine of the silver Rolex around his wrist - looked less than pleased to see his boss/friend/ex-roommate rushing up to meet him. Ian recalled first being introduced to the British-Asian man in his first year at Oxford, and instantly taking a liking to his sarcastic attitude and semi-pessimistic outlook on life, considering that it greatly matched his own. The two were thick as thieves during their time at school despite Thomas knowing nothing of the Cahill family and it's troublesome history. That's why years later, when Ian started working on what he considered to be one of the most important projects of his life, the only person he could think of to oversee that his vision went off without a hitch was his hilariously pretentious friend, Thomas.

"Bloody hell, Ian! It's _Mr. Lang_ \- would it kill you to allow my co-workers to think that I got this job based on skill and not because I'm your 'mate'? This is a professional fucking relationship!"

Ian laughed and threw an arm around the obviously put out man. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, they can always think that you got this job based on your _skill_ to throw back six tequila shots in a row . . . "

Thomas scowled. "I hate you."

"As long as that hatred fuels the fire that will build me - and the world - an unforgettable, five-star gallery with potential for expansion, I'm okay with that," Ian responded, as his friend dramatically rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Ian grinned, looked up at his masterpiece and sighed. The construction of the gallery had reached the final stages of production, where everything was slowly but surely starting to come together. Art from all over the world was due to start flying in any day now, right after he himself clears the site of any safety hazards and concerns. It was a beyond glorious time for the young Kabra. Seeing something that he built from the ground up and not inherited from Vikram and Isabel come to life right in front of him . . . well, it almost made him proud.

". . . 'Cause then, if you're a guest and you look out right there, it's like a surprise garden. And of course, it'll accented by that gorgeous fountain - we're not budging on that one. We're still trying to make sure that the plant purchases won't go to waste - with this Boston weather, you never know. And again, are you 100% sure about the bridges?" Thomas rambled, stopping when he noticed Ian wasn't paying any attention. "I'm sorry, am I boring you, Your Majesty?"

"The bridges stay," Ian replied. "They'll look divine in the summer night."

"Ugh, fine," Thomas sniffed. "But we're sprucing them up a bit and that's final."

"Whatever you say."

"Alright then. Let's head inside for a brief tour."

Following his ex-schoolmate into the grand building, Ian watched with rapt attention as Thomas pointed out to him the developing restaurant and bar area, the extensive prep and renovation for the first exhibition, and of course the stunning indoor fountain that so much hope was placed on.

"This place is going to wow, Ian," Thomas concluded. "You know me, and I'm not an easy judge, but I've got to say it . . . This is going to be the new Louvre. You're about to get even richer, billionaire."

"It's not about the money," Ian whispered, because for once in his life it was true.

"Yeah, for you," his friend teased. "Some of us gotta eat!"

"Shut up, you wanker!" the Kabra laughed, playfully punching "Tommy Boy" in the arm.

"Ah ah ah, you better stop doing that, or I won't show you that special room you've always wanted . . ."

All of the sudden, it was like Ian's eyes turned into tea saucers. "You've included it?"

Lang let out a semi-exasperated breath. "I admit, I hated the idea at first. I mean, there are just so many ways that could go wrong, you know? But after being assured and reassured by the most maximum security companies out there, I've come around and changed my mind. It is your place after all, even if I am one of the more eager investors."

Ian thought that he would burst of happiness. "Please, show it to me now."

And so, Thomas led Ian to the third floor, past the construction and paint fumes, and finally through a hidden door leading to a beyond lovely treasure.

It was one of the more complete parts of the building. However, it wasn't _a part_ of the gallery, nor would it ever be. In a way that is very much unlike Ian's taste, the room itself was ridiculously simple, with no grand showing of opulence or status in sight, the only thing boasting of luxury being the beautiful view. It had a small fridge, a metal sink, a couple of chairs, and a few tables pressed together, but what really stood out about it was the vast amount of easels spread out everywhere.

It was perfect.

"I figured that every secret great artist should have _their_ own space in _their_ gallery," Thomas remarked nonchalantly with a simper. "You can decorate it more however you please, of course. This is closed to the public."

Ian still had no words.

"Maybe it'll give you some inspiration and courage to finally show your work to the world."

The young billionaire swallowed a lump in his throat. "Remind me to give you a raise, Tommy."

His friend chuckled. "You can count on that."

And just like that, it was like the sun shone a little brighter over the Boston skyline.

* * *

Well, I hope you guys liked that! So much to talk about! How do you like Thomas Lang? TBH, he's one of my favorite OCs so far! What about Natalie's strong opinions - agree or disagree? I really wanted to focus this chapter on Ian's character development, to show that he is a person and he has more than Miss Amelia on his mind, and that he really strives to be a self-made individual who wants to accomplish things on his own. So, what do you think about him building an art gallery? Anyone excited to see how that turns out? Let me know!

I wanted to give a huge shoutout to anyone who's been favoriting, reading, or reviewing this story. You guys keep me going and I love you all so much!

Unfortunately, I do not know when I will be posting again. :( However, I hope that you guys enjoy this extra long chapter, and I hope to hear what you think soon!

Much love,

Red


End file.
